"I can't stand that girl," grumbled Cherrie, sending an evil eye in the general direct of Annabel.
"Who, Anna? What's wrong with Anna? Jealous, perhaps?" asked Tommy, who considered Anna to be quite a nice girl.
"Jealous? You have got to be kidding. Why would I be jealous of a stuck up cow? Always full of herself. Thinks she's better than anyone else around her. She even thinks she's smarter than me."
The first three grievances were things that Tommy had never noticed about Anna. He'd always found her friendly and outgoing, not seeming to look down on anyone. The last item might have been correct but there again, being smarter than Cherrie didn't take a lot of brains, not that he would tell her that.
"What has she done now?" he asked sympathetically. Tommy was willing to spend a lot of sympathy on Cherrie, thinking it might get him into her pants sooner rather than later.
"She won the poetry competition we were having in our English Lit. class. The professor said he could almost guarantee that I'd win and then Anna got me disqualified."
"How'd that happen?" Tommy asked, amused.
"The professor was reading the first verse of the poems, and we had to identify which one was written by a famous poet, just by the first verse. Miss Smarty-pants put up her hand when my poem was read, saying it was a little known poem by Tennyson. The professor checked and disqualified me. You should have heard him going on about plagiarism. If poets didn't want their poems used they shouldn't put them on the internet."
"Quite right," Tommy agreed, pinching his throat to stop himself laughing. He was only surprised that the professor hadn't picked it up himself. It must have been a fairly obscure poem.
"Look at her over there. She's probably gloating and laughing about what happened."
Tommy looked over there. All he could see was that Annabel was chatting and smiling as she conversed with her friends. They didn't seem to be paying any attention to Cherrie at all. Not that that surprised him. Cherrie wasn't what you would call a girl's girl, tending to ignore them while she chatted up boys.
"What I'd really like to see is the silly cow getting fucked by a crew of drunken sailors. That'd teach her something."
"Um, possibly, but since we're a hundred miles from any port I can't see it happening."
Cherrie muttered to herself, sending a few more evil eye looks in Anna's direction. Then she stopped and looked thoughtful.
"You have a few disreputable characters in your bike club, don't you?"
Tommy admitted that they did, giving Cherrie an uneasy look.
"So would one or more of them be willing to fuck her if I set her up?"
Tommy's mind raced, weighing pros and cons.
"I might be able to work something out," he finally admitted. "It would cost you though."
"How much? I don't have all that much cash."
"First of all, how old is Annabel? And how old are you?"
"Eighteen, both of us. Don't worry. She's not a minor. Why did you want to know my age?"
"I already knew it. I just wanted confirmation. I know a guy who can be a little, ah, lax in asking permission from his girlfriend before indulging, even when the girl doesn't know she's his current girlfriend. I suspect that I can persuade him that Anna would be worth his consideration."
"Okay. And the cost?"
"I get to fuck you comprehensively before I make the arrangements. To keep it simple I'll arrange for the guy to come to your house at a nominated time. All you have to do is get Annabel to come over."
"But I have to fuck you first," said Cherrie, sounding a little irritated.
"That's the way it goes. It shows how sincere you are about this or if you're just sounding off."
Cherrie considered the matter. On the plus side Annabel would get screwed and she'd be there to see it. On the negative, she'd have to screw Tommy first. There again, Tommy had already been hinting at doing it with her and he might have persuaded her eventually. Unlikely, but he might of.
"Deal," she said, "but if you screw this up I'll have your balls. By the way, you are eighteen yourself?"
"You damn well know I am. What say we adjourn to my place and seal the deal?"
"What, now?"
"As good a time as any. Coming?"
Muttering under her breath Cherrie followed Tommy.
Arriving home Tommy had one bad moment. Had he made the bed that morning? Yes, he recalled, and it even had clean sheets.
"As a matter of curiosity, Cherrie, have you ever done it on a bed before?"
"What? What do you think I am? Of course I have," snapped Cherrie.
She paused, thinking.
"Um, now that you mention it, no. I don't normally go to a boy's house and they certainly don't come to mine when my parents aren't home."
As they entered his room she looked around with interest.
"Your room is surprisingly neat and tidy for a boy's room," she observed. "I've seen my brother's room and a self-respecting pig wouldn't enter it."
"Well, before you hand out too many accolades I have to warn you that you shouldn't open the wardrobe or look under the bed."
"Like that is it." She giggled. "I told my brother that if he wanted to clean his room fast he should just stuff everything under his bed. He blamed me when our mother checked and pointed out that the legs of the bed were six inches above the floor, he stuffed so much under it."
Tommy laughed. "Mine's not that bad, but there is some accumulated junk. There'll be some stuff on the floor in a moment, though."
