Tonight was the night. Hannah's 19th birthday. But more than that, at least to me, it was also the night she had agreed to make love to me for the first time.
It would be the first time for both of us and, if honest, one that I thought might never happen. You see, Hannah Is a 'good girl'. She doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, goes to church every Sunday. And sex before marriage was a definite no.
We'd known each other since we were small and had been boyfriend/girlfriend for most of that time. We did the usual teenage stuff -- kissing and feeling each other up, but always through clothes though.
Did I want more than that? You bet! After all, Hannah was stunning - average height, curly blond hair to her shoulders and the fittest body you could ever imagine. If we hadn't been a couple since childhood, there's no way I would have plucked up the courage to ask her out.
Plenty tried to steal her away from me. But Hannah wasn't interested. I don't know why, but she never looked at anyone but me.
So, it was a real shock to me when, sitting in the car as I dropped her off at her parents, she told me she wanted to have sex with me. Believe me, I was never going to say no, but this change of heart needed some explanation. She told me that she always believed saving yourself for the right person was the right thing to do. That you should only give yourself to the one you were going to spend the rest of your life with. And that she knew I was the one. Knowing how patient I had been, it didn't seem fair to her to make me wait. She'd given me her heart but wanted me to have her body as well. It felt right, so it couldn't be wrong.
What could I say to that? We planned to consummate this new chapter in our relationship on her birthday in two weeks' time. She was spending the day with her family and then we were at a house party in the evening. Once that had finished, she was coming home with me, and we would do what we both needed. Fortunately, my parents were out of town for the weekend, so we could be sure not to be disturbed. The plan did need a little deception towards her parents. As far as they knew, Hannah was staying at her friend's house. There should be no danger of that untruth being uncovered (the parents didn't know each other), so it should work out fine. We had a little guilt at the lie, but that was easily subsumed by the anticipation we felt.
The closer the event got, the more impatient I started to feel, and the more nervous Hannah became. By the middle of the second week, I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd called it off. However, she insisted that she wouldn't. She wanted to and she had promised, and she meant to keep the promise.
So, the big day arrives. When I picked up Hannah from her parents, she looked amazing. Her beautiful smile matched her beautiful hair. She was wearing a grey and white t-shirt with a pleated grey, flared, mini skirt showing off her smooth, shapely legs. And did I notice a little makeup? At that moment I couldn't have wanted her more.
It was a short drive over to the party and when we arrived, Hannah took the opportunity to apply some bright red lipstick. It made her look even more desirable, if that was possible.
The party was fun. We watched TV, we played some games, we ordered takeout. The usual stuff. Brad's parents had given him the run of the (large) house, so we made the most of it. I doubt anyone else noticed, but I could sense Hannah's nerves throughout the evening.
Late on in the evening we'd been separated for a little while as the guys had gone upstairs to check out Brad's room. When I came back down, I found Hannah sat on the sofa. Sitting next to her, she leant in to me and whispered in my ear, "Don't be mad at me".
My heart sank. Had she changed her mind? But that's not what she wanted to tell me. She'd felt the nerves were getting the best of her and she thought a drink would help. In her 19 years, she'd never touched a drop to my knowledge, but the prospect of losing her virginity had induced her to add vodka to her orange juice.
I whispered back to her. "That's okay, I understand. But don't have too much as you are not used to it". But as I said that, I realised that I had missed the clues to how much she had drunk already. She was leaning against me heavily, there was a slight slur to her words, and I would swear there was the beginning of a glassy look in her eye.
It wasn't long after this, that it became very obvious that Hannah was now thoroughly intoxicated. Whilst I couldn't be sure of how much vodka she had consumed, careful questioning suggested it was enough for someone who was unused to alcohol to be drunk as a skunk. It was a massive blow to my libido, but I swallowed my disappointment and realised that all that mattered now was getting her home safely. The 'big event' could wait.
I steered Hannah towards the car, and she was surprisingly steady despite some gentle swaying and the odd stumble. Settling her down on the passenger seat, I folded her legs into the footwell. I confess I couldn't resist running my hands down her legs as I did so. What might have been! Strapping her in I made my way around to the driving seat.
By the time I had started the motor, she had slumped against the window. Still conscious, though, as she was mumbling throughout the 10-minute journey back home. Mumbling about wanting me, wanting sex, wanting to fuck. Wow, I had never heard her say that word before! But whilst I appreciated her words, I knew it couldn't happen, not with her in this state.
Ours is a rich neighbourhood. Everyone has large houses, with patios and pools. Ours had a large gate which should have automatically opened when I pulled up to it. Damn, my parents must have switched it off before they left. Telling Hannah not to move, I walked swiftly around the side of the house where the main door was. Fumbling for my keys I got it open and made my way swiftly to the cupboard. Cupboard light on, and there's the switch, turned off. Thanks Ma & Pa!
I switch it back on and move quickly back around the house to the front. The gate to the driveway is thankfully now open. But as I'm about to climb into the driver's seat I realise that Hannah is no longer in the car. Shit! It had only taken me two, maybe three minutes, but the passenger door is slightly open, so she's obviously freed herself from the belt and made her way up to the house. Hopefully without falling over!
I drive the car in and up the short ramp towards the garage, but there's no sign of Hannah. Parking up, I shoot back down to the street. It's pretty straight so if she's wandered off down the road, I should be able to see her. But there's no sign.
I'm starting to panic as I slowly realise the only place she could have gone to. The houses either side and opposite were all built to the same pattern and so have gates like ours. Only one is currently open and that house belongs to one Ben Austin.
I'm not sure how most of the people in the street made their money. My parents are lawyers. There's a doctor or two, I think. Usual stuff. But Ben was different. According to the neighbourhood, the source of his money was suspicious. Rumours of drugs, money laundering and sundry other criminal enterprises abounded. The way he looked didn't help - tall, muscled, and a number of prominent tattoos that were never going to endear him to the street's occupants. He'd always been pleasant enough to me, but I'd been warned to stay away at all costs.
So, with no choice, I got my courage up and walked up the drive to his front door. As I rang the bell, I thought I could faintly hear music playing inside. There was no answer. I rang again. Nothing.
I started back down the drive and stopped halfway as something drew my attention. I hadn't spotted it before, but there, on the side were a pair of shoes. Bending down to look, the light provided by the moon was enough for me to be sure that they were Hannah's.
Well at least I now had a lead. I assumed she had confused the houses and tried to get in to Ben's. I told myself she'd be fine; he's probably seen how drunk she is and taken her in for her own safety. But still, I'd be happier if I knew for sure.
I decided to walk around to the back of the house and see if I could attract his attention through the kitchen window. And if that didn't work, see if the patio door was open. I wasn't too happy at the idea of wandering through a purported gangster's house uninvited, but it might be I had no choice.
The back was dark as well, with the only light I could see coming from within the house. No dice with the kitchen door, but the patio was unlocked, and I went inside. My intention was to move from the patio room through the kitchen into the hall and shout a hello. But I got a shock when I reached the kitchen. The central island was covered in cash. Piles and piles of it. I've never seen so much. Wow, so the rumours were true. I mean, no one has that much cash for a legitimate reason, do they?
Now I knew I was in trouble. If Ben found me in his house, he'd know for sure I'd seen the money. But I was torn between the need to find Hannah and desire to get the hell out of there.
Noise. That's the sound of footsteps coming down the front stairs. I swiftly make my way out of the kitchen and move as far in the other direction as I can. I reach the back stairs and start creeping up, trying not to make a sound. I think I can still vaguely hear noise from the kitchen, so I gather my courage and head up the stairs swiftly. If Hannah is here, I'll sneak her out down the same route.
I quickly open doors and peer in. Bedrooms, cupboards and bathrooms as you'd expect. No sign of Hannah. Then just as I'm about to look in another door, I hear Ben coming up the front stairs. With no way to avoid being seen, I quickly entered the room and looked for somewhere to hide. It's the room where the music is coming from. It's fairly low volume and there's subdued lighting, so I'm pretty sure he's going to be coming in here. There are precious few possibilities, but the only one that I can see is the closet. It's a large one, offering potential hiding places if he was to look in here.
I'm now thoroughly terrified and that doesn't improve when I hear the bedroom door open, and someone enter. I think I hear him put something on the bed. I realise that if peer through the slats of the closet door, I have a good view of the bed.
I cautiously move and look. It's dark in the closet and there's a dim light in the bedroom, so I'm afforded a good view of what Ben has put on the bed. It's Hannah.
I suspect he's just carried her upstairs. She's pretty light and he's a strong guy, so I can't imagine it was hard for him. What do I do? I don't want anything to happen to her, but if I leap out of my hiding place, I'm pretty sure that won't go down well with my neighbour. I've got my phone, but how can I use it without alerting him?
I'm side on to the bed and I watch him roll her over onto her back, her legs dangling off the end of the bed. He leans into her and, quite gently, says, "What's your name, darling?"
He has to repeat the question to her, but eventually a slurred reply comes, "Hannah."
Having succeeded in getting a reply he continued, "How have you ended up on my doorstep? What are you doing here babe?" No reply. "What do you want from me?"
To my horror, Hannah replied to that with what she'd been saying to me during the car journey, "I want to have sex." From my hiding place, it seemed to me her eyes looked unfocused, and she wasn't aware of who she was talking to.
