My Perfect Prom Date

My brown hair was pulled back, up and given extra curls and shine, my nails were painted a glittery emerald to match the flowers on my dress, my make up made me look so adult. I felt connected, and at the same time foreign to this woman who was clearly me. I'm sort of tall at 5'7", but the heels made me look even taller, to my relief I didn't feel awkward about my lankiness. In fact, I didn't even look lanky for some reason, I had hips not bones, the dress actually fit me. My mom took care of getting me a strapless bra that pushed up my boobs making them look bigger than they were. Usually a B or an A cup I was sure I looked at least a C. I was starting to believe that I was ready for this. The finishing touches to me was getting fitted for contact lens, they sort of irritated my eyes but this was a small price to pay to have my eyes and my cheek bones showing as opposed to hiding behind those hideous frames.

Taylor showed up in the early evening on the gorgeous sunny day, he looked so handsome in a black tuxedo. The pictures came first and my mom took all sorts of them. We had to stand in front of this and then stand in front of that, then we had to go inside were she had set up places for pictures. I had never seen my mom so proud, a fact that I didn't know whether to laugh or cry about considering that I had won academic awards. This was a different kind of pride, this was the daughter she always wanted, there wasn't any hiding it. My dad was more detached, aside from telling me I looked lovely and he said that all the time anyway and I never really believed him. Mostly he stood by Taylor's dad's car and talked to his father. Yeah, we didn't take a limo or anything, his dad drove us to the place.

With an uncomfortable corsage pinned around wrist I was on my way to the formal. Arriving was almost like a dream. All these kids that I saw all the time at school looked all so glamorous. I felt almost like I arrived at the scene of a movie premier and there was stars among the crowd. The queens of this prom floated effortlessly among the crowd, graciously accepting photo ops and glowing in every moment. The gowns and dresses were extravagant and bold, and the boys looked like gentlemen.

I wish I could say that I meshed with the crowed, but before I knew it my old friend anxiety had returned with force. While my date frolicked and joked with his friends, I either stood in one spot or tried to follow him often being ignored. Some girls tried to make conversation with me, but gave up quickly when my social retardation became obvious. The dinner was a little better because at least I had Taylor in one place and he gave me a bit of a shield from feeling isolated. All of this was in my head, just like the whole need to have a date was, there were plenty of single people there and they were having fun just like everyone else. I am just cursed to over think every little thing, leading to a tendency to blow things out of proportion.

After all that was over, and the reception was done, everyone was talking about the party. Taylor was no doubt going, this meant that so was I. I had never been to a high school party but there is a first time for everything. There were no parents in sight in or around the large house that was to host the affair. There was alcohol everywhere and it seemed that many were drunk before it even started. There was rough housing and yelling and Taylor was in the middle of all of it. He was also in the middle of the booze.

I walked from room to room trying not to stay too long in one place just in case someone noticed me. I didn't want to drink because I didn't want to be sick, I had drunk before at my uncles place and I got very sick from it. As the night wore on I became associated with the other wall flowers, we ended up almost grouped together by default and the premise that there is strength in numbers.

"Come on Michelle, have a drink" Taylor was obviously not on his first when he proposed this for me.

"I can't, really"

"Michelle...it's the fucking...prom...have a drink..." Peer pressure wasn't something I gave into, but that was mostly because I hadn't been exposed to it. Regardless of his behaviour throughout the night, Taylor was still my knight in shining armour. I gave in mostly because I wanted him to pay attention to me. I started drinking, but I took each one slowly. Being a total light weight my head was feeling light headed quickly, but this wasn't an unwelcome feeling, it loosened me up a bit. Soon I was laughing at Taylor's exploits and he was focusing ever more attention on me.

The other thing that I started to notice was all the making out going on. Everywhere I looked seemed to be a couple engaged in a war of tongues. Some guys were even feeling the girl's chests and other places too. I started to get really nervous when I noticed Taylor's eyes on me and I started to realize what the other expectations of the evening were.

Taylor came straight up to me and grabbed me by the waste, "Mich, let's go dance in the backyard..." he was slurring his words but I didn't protest.

In the house the music was dance and poppy stuff, but in the backyard they were playing slow songs. I had to keep telling myself that I was ready for this over and over as he led me to the dance floor. He held me so close and directed my head onto his chest when it became obvious that I didn't know where to put it. His hands moved around on my back and up to my neck, sensing how stiff I was he massaged my neck and shoulders. He held me even closer and I felt it with no mistake, he was pushing his erection into my stomach and clearly making no effort to hide it. I just kept swaying back and forth, the music was having no impact on my movements, I was too busy trying to make sense of what I should be doing in such a situation.

"Michelle, I have a car."

"Huh?" I had no idea what he meant.

"I have a car." He said in a tone that you would expect among co-conspirators. The only problem was that one half didn't understand the first thing about what he was talking about.

"What type of get a car?" I tried to make conversation thinking he bought a car or something.

"I don't fucking know, he said I could have the keys."

"Keys to what?"

"The car, it's out front" His tone was pretty incredulous to the fact that I hadn't caught on yet.

"Didn't your dad drive us?"

"Yeah, but I will drive now"

"Well ok, you want to go now?" I really thought he was talking about going home.

"Yes Michelle, let's get out of here, wait for me in the front, ok?"

"Yeah, I guess, well ok...are you ok to drive?" I should have known the answer to this question but I was pretty inexperienced with parties and alcohol in general; I stupidly let him take the lead.

"Yeah, I'm fucking fine, I've only had a few, I know my limit this was nothing." His tone sounded annoyed with the question and I didn't want to annoy him. I actually accepted his ridiculous claim that he was fine, this despite the fact that I had been watching him all night. In reality there was nothing "fucking fine" about his condition to drive, on the other hand he had no intention of taking me home just yet.

I waited for what seemed a long time in the front hallway, watching people stumble out the door from time to time, some helped by friends and some with their own balance. The mood was one of celebration, people I barely knew were greeting me like friends, until one of the stumblers was Taylor. He grabbed me by the arm and led me out the front door.

"It's just down the street a little bit." He didn't really seem too sure which car we were going to, other than the fact it was blue, a detail not helped by dim street lights. He tried the keys in one car with no luck and then another without success, I was trying to keep a liberal distance from him just in case an owner happened to notice.

"Found it! Mich, it's over here...come here!" He seemed a more relieved that excited to have found the car.

He sat in the drivers seat without opening the passenger side for me, anticipation must have robbed him of his chivalry. After a few attempts he turned the key and started the car. He wasn't in much of a state to drive but the car still moved forward, I was starting to realize just how reckless this was and was getting scared.

"Do you even know where I live Taylor?"

"We're not going there, going to school first." His mind was only processing on one track at that moment and he told me as a matter of fact his plans.

"Oh, you're not taking me home? What's at the school?"

"Come on Mich, it's prom night...it's prom night..." he continued this a few times before trailing off.

Amazingly, we arrived at the destination without incident, he swerved and broke sharply the whole way, but we did get there. He didn't take me to the high school, this was our elementary school. The place was all together more secluded, also likely less of a target for police looking for drunken prom drivers, in that Taylor showed a bit of forethought.

"Come on Michelle, get in the back seat." My prince charming wasn't really plucking my heart strings at this time. Instead he was just making me feel nervous and jittery.

"I don't know if I want to."

"Just get in the back seat, we can talk and then we can talk, you know..." That was a novel idea: the two of us talking. It's not something that we had really done a heck of a lot of, I also didn't buy the excuse. Still I had this bad feeling that I was being a terrible date, I didn't want to disappointment, I still very much liked him. At least I very much liked the him that I had built up in my mind over the past two months. During that time I had convinced myself that I had the best prom date of all the girls in the school. Here he was shattering that fantasy but my mind just didn't want to let go of it.

"Come on Mich, just trust me." With his urging, I got out of the car and climbed into the back seat, seeing this he did the same. We sat next to each other and it was uncomfortably silent, any talking he had planned wasn't happening.

"What did you want to talk about?" This was basically the only conversation starter that I could come up with. He seemed to take it in by tilting his head back and looking at the roof of the car for a while.

"Just come sit by me, what are you do afraid of?" His body language was impatient and frustrated.

"I'm not scared." I lied, I was very scared, "I just don't know, it feels weird."

"It will feel fine, just be next to me." he moved closer to my side. I didn't move away, I really wanted to do this, I just didn't know how to and my anxiety wasn't letting me. He put his arm around me and started kissing my neck, I was so tense, his hand forced it's way behind my back to get a grip on me. This had to be the most awkward make-out session ever, and I felt like a fool.

"Don't you want to?" He whispered in my ear.

"Yes, I want to, I'm just..."

"Just what?"

"I'm just nervous, can we take it slower?"

Taylor backed off a bit and was trying to look me in the eyes, my eyes kept darting every which way to avoid his.

"It's ok, you know everyone is doing it now, it's prom night everyone is doing it." He shifted gears to try to convince me that it was abnormal not to be doing it on this night. I thought he was just talking about making out, I still didn't realize that he was trying to fuck me.

"We can go slow Mich, and if it hurts we can stop."

"huh, what hurts?" I gave him a strange look. Prom or no prom this was our first date and he was talking about more than making out.

"Nothing Mich, it's nothing, just you're so pretty and I was just like being here with you." His new angle was romance, neglecting to answer any questions about what would hurt he went on praising my looks all while stealing a few kisses here and there.

In my mind I was being an absolute disaster of a date. I thought about those girls making out on the stairs of the house or on the sofa, their images went through my head and I chastised myself for being such a prude. I tried to do my best and kiss back, but the car was so quiet and noises of us fumbling around was putting me off.

Mid kiss I stopped him again, "Taylor, why can't we go back to the party?"

"What! Fuck Mich!' He exhaled in frustration, "What's your problem?"

"Nothing!" I tried to calm him down, "Nothing, I swear I want to make out with you, just that I'm not comfortable in the car and I thought we could go back and then we could make out in living room or on the stairs our something."

Taylor had broken away and was sitting back on his side of the car and seemed to be pouting.

"I'm sorry,...what is it?... I really want to... What did I do wrong?" Please tell me. I was being the worst date ever. My prom date saviour was looking angry and above all exacerbated with me.

"What are we going to do there?" After an uncomfortable pause, "Huh?!"

"We can make out, I mean it, I really want to."

In an almost defeated but angry tone Taylor said, "well maybe I want to do more than just make out." More silence filled the car as I was deciding on how to process that information. He continued, but this time in a pleading tone, "Michelle, this is my prom night, this what you do on your prom night... what's wrong with you?"

"I don't know what's wrong with me?" He really hit a soft spot with that. I had spent years wondering what was wrong with me, why I just couldn't be normal, why I just couldn't enjoy things. Now the first boy I really liked was telling me there was something wrong with me, the evidence was overwhelming: There was something wrong with me.

"Can we just try again? Forget I asked to go back. Let's just try again?" Now I was the one pleading with him, I wanted to at least try. The mood in the car was decidedly gloomy, this was after more than a half an hour of him trying to get me just to make out, neither of us had lost any article of clothing. He almost timidly came back over to me, this time trying a little bit slower. I felt completely out of place but was determined to kiss back and make this work.

We kissed for a bit and gradually his hands started to roam. Around my back and then one hand on my stomach, he started to feel my tits. My inner voice started to scream at me about my push up bra and how embarrassing it would be if he saw that.

"Taylor! Please stop."

"What!? What now!?" His mouth was hanging open in disbelief and his right eyebrow started to twitch. I was laying back in the left seat and he had positioned himself over me.

"I don't know it just doesn't feel right"

With that Tylor loudly retreated to his side again and exhaled noisily.

"What can I do?" I was mad at myself now for being so awkward and I shrunk into my corner and started to cry.

"Oh fuck! Don't start with that!" Taylor jittery with impatience, he put one hand over his face as if to shield me from his view.

"You're the one leaving me with a fucking hardon, so don't you start crying." He said this rather matter of factly but making sure to emphasize that the blame was mine.

I tried to choke back my tears, "Well what can I do? Just tell me."

"You can suck my dick." He waited though another long silence, "see there's nothing you can do."

"Ok, I'll do it." I told him and I meant it. I didn't want to just ruin everything. I knew he would never want to speak to me again after this if I didn't.

"Yeah?" I could hear his spirit rise a bit in his voice.

"Yeah, I can do it."

Taylor did waste much time, before I knew it he pulled his dick out and it was very hard. It was now or never for me, I could either be a normal prom date or I could be the date that nobody would want. I sat and looked at his very erect penis for a bit trying to get my courage, it was very large and intimidating.

"Well? Are you going to?" He said this while positioning it straight in the air, it seemed to fall naturally toward his stomach as he sat back if her didn't hold it.

There is was, staring directly at me, it seemed to have an expectation all its own. It was framed on both sides by clothing, his white shirt up top and his underwear line that was just below his balls on the other side. It was whiter and pinker than the rest of his body, circumcised with a large purple head. I leaned over his lap, my hair fell forward as I looked for the best way to start. I tried to fit my mouth around it before closing but it was very thick.

"I don't know how to do this." I admitted hoping that he wouldn't get upset.

"It's ok baby, just put it in your mouth and don't use your teeth..." He seemed willing to coach with my mouth that close to his cock. I thought to myself, how do I not use my teeth, my teeth are in my mouth and this thing isn't going to fit very easily. This couldn't be as easy as he was telling me. I was noticing the smell by now too and it wasn't all together pleasing. It smelled like sweat mixed with vinegar or something and my stomach was turning as a result.

"Come on Michelle, just put it in your mouth."

I figured I had to, and I covered the tip with my lips and put more in. Was I supposed to suck? Just put it in my mouth like he said? Well I was doing that much.

"Fuck! Your teeth!"

I took the little bit out quickly, "Are you hurt?" I was really quite concerned, I looked up at him thinking that I messed this up bad

"No, it's fine just go again." The look on his face showed that he was fine with another attempt. I lowered my head again and put it in my mouth and tried to get more in. I felt his pulse in his penis as the head throbbed in my mouth. The taste was not a pleasing one, it tasted salty and it got worse the more I tried to put in. I tried to endure this and be a good date, but the taste and smell were overwhelming to me. I took it out, started to cough, I wanted to spit so badly.

"Taylor...I can't"

"What!? Why? What is it this time?"

"It tastes bad" I didn't have much tact in revealing the problem I was having.

This was my nightmare. I was a total failure of a date. I really liked this boy. I dreamed of this stuff and I dreamed about it with him. I spent all those nights masturbating about him in my bed, thinking about everything from fucking to having his children. Now here we were and I couldn't even do one thing right. Nothing right at all, I couldn't make out, I couldn't suck dick and I was now making him angry.

"You know what Michelle - Fuck you!" He was really mad, "You're telling me I taste bad now!? Is that it? Little miss perfect doesn't like the taste of me?" His face was red and his ears looked like that could blow smoke any second.

I didn't say anything, I was frozen up with fear. Taylor was a lot bigger than me and about 20 times stronger. Now he was in a rage.

"Yeah fuck you! I don't care if you cry you fucking cock tease!" Said the guy who had been trying to pressure me into sex for the past couple hours.

"I don't fucking care anymore!"

With that Taylor grabbed me by the head and forced my head down into the corner of the seat and pushed my face hard on the seat belt thing.

"You're hurting me!" I pleaded with him, half in disbelief that he was being so rough with me.

He wasn't listening to me, he was completely wound up with frustration and anger. He was contorting my body until he had me face down with my chest completely flat on the seat. There wasn't much room back there so my attempts to fight back were largely contained by the enclosed area. I didn't know what he planned to do with me so I was just asking him to stop and not screaming or anything. On top of that I was just very scared, I didn't want him to beat me up, I felt like I set something off that I couldn't take back.

This slow and mostly silent struggle went on for a long time. Eventually I was on my knees on the seat and he was pushing my head against the back door. I felt him push my dress up over my hips.