Parker - Stacy’s senior year

"Just one night," she told herself, as he drew the kiss out until it was more like necking than a single kiss.

Finally, he released her. Gasping, she staggered to her feet and hurried off.

"Until tomorrow then," he called after her.

Sharon squeezed herself into the back of closet, trying as best she could to make herself comfortable in the pile of clothing Neil had laid out for her. From where she sat, she had an unobstructed 3/4 view from the head of Neil’s bed. She peered through the viewfinder of her father’s video camera. "Looks good," she reported to Gary, as he watched from where he sat on the side of the bed. "As long as the lights stay on, I should have no trouble with the filming. It’s kind of tight in here, though."

Gary smirked at her. "You should be getting used to it by now," he joked. "That cupboard a couple of weeks ago was no bigger."

Sharon laughed in agreement. What with the filming in the Woodwork Shop, and now in Neil’s bedroom, she was becoming something of an expert in this sort of thing. Perhaps, she reflected, she should look into becoming a private detective. There must be a lot of money in doing this sort of thing for divorce cases in the like.

The 18 year-old girl settled back against the closet wall as her friend and sometime boyfriend adjusted the tripod and camera in front of her to give her a little more room. She was looking forward to the upcoming events, although she still found it hard to believe that Stacy would show up and go through with it. Imagine… the Ice Queen agreeing to fuck Neil! (Imagine anyone agreeing to fuck Neil.) And she was there to get it all on tape! Between the camera she was running, and the second video camera set up on the bookshelf beside Neil’s bed, they should be able to catch the whole event for posterity. And after that, Gary had plans for Stacy that made Sharon wet and shivery just thinking about them. She hated Stacy, and all of the stuck up cunts like her at school. The chance to fuck one of them over was irresistible for her.

"You OK?" Gary broke into her thoughts. The camera was set up in front of her, and everything was ready.

"Gimmie a kiss," she ordered, reaching up. Gary leaned over and kissed her fully on the mouth, his tongue playing with hers. She could tell that he was as excited about what was going to happen as she was, despite his calm manner. Maybe they had time to…

"Hey hey," Neil called out jokingly, entering the bedroom. "This is supposed to be my night. Knock it off." Reluctantly, Sharon let go of Gary and settled back down into her position in the closet. Trust Neil to show up at the wrong time. Gary smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders.

"Later," he whispered.

Sharon shivered as he partially closed the closet door, leaving it open just a crack. "Shit," she muttered to herself, trying to get comfortable. A few moments later, she was wishing that she had a cigarette.

Stacy preceded Neil into his bedroom and stood there while he closed the door behind him. She was wearing blue jeans and a yellow tee-shirt, and had her blonde hair pulled up into a simple ponytail.

"Like it?" Neil asked, gesturing vaguely towards the room. Stacy looked around. It was a small, basement bedroom, surprisingly bright considering the fact that there was only one, small window. The light, however, did the room no favours. It merely exposed the battered '70s-style wood panelling that covered the walls. That, along with the worn shag carpet gave the room a slightly sleazy look to it. More or less what Stacy would have expected. Besides the bed - a single bed, she noticed - which sat in the corner of the room next to the closet, the only furniture in the room was a battered couch and coffee table set up under the window. The table was covered with comics and magazines, as were the bookshelves which lines the wall over the bed.

"Nice," she said sarcastically. "I can see you’ve done a lot with it." Before coming, she had decided to be as pliant as she could be, to go along with everything as quickly as possible, but now that she was here, she was unable to conceal her contempt and anger.

Neil did not react to her sarcasm. "Like a drink?" he asked, pulling out a bottle from under the coffee table. "Whiskey. I’m having one."

The last thing Stacy wanted to do was hang around for a casual drink, but as long as he was going to have one, she figured she may as well have a drink as well. It might even make things a little easier. "Yeah, fine," she answered. "With water." Gingerly, she sat down on the edge of the couch, careful to avoid the magazines and - she now saw - cigarette ashes which were spread out on the cushion. Neil disappeared into the adjoining bathroom and mixed the drinks. She heard the water running for a moment, and then he returned with two glasses. He handed one to her and then raised his drink in salute: "To us," he stated.

Stacy just stared at him for a moment. Fuck you, she thought. "To us," she echoed unwillingly, raising her own glass. After this is over, she told herself, taking a sip of the drink, I’m going to have to get this asshole taken care of. She knew a few guys on the football team who…

"So," Neil interrupted her thoughts, sitting down next to her on the couch, "did you have a nice weekend?"

Oh fine, she thought, small talk. Asshole. "Just great," she answered sarcastically. "How about you?"

"I’ve been horny all weekend," he told her, "thinking of you."

His directness and unapologetic crudity shook her, reminding her of her situation, and why she was here. Best to get it over with as soon as possible. Deliberately, she drained the glass in one gulp and slammed it down on the coffee table. "Stop fucking around. Let’s get on with it."

Neil, however, was in no hurry. He took a casual sip of his drink and smiled at her. "Get on with what?"

"You know." She gestured vaguely with her hand. "…It."

"It?"

"Sex," she blurted out. Just how stupid was he? "That’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?" She flushed and looked down. He wasn’t making this easy on her.

Neil suddenly reached over and grabbed her face, turning it towards him so he could look straight into her large green eyes. "No," he told her. "I don’t just want sex ." He mimicked the way she had reluctantly said the word. "I want to fuck you." He made a point of emphasising the crudity. "We’re going to fuck. Ball. Screw. Get it on." He got up and walked to the bed, pulling his shirt over his head; the complexion of his back matched that of his face. "But first," he said, carelessly throwing the shirt onto the floor beside the bed, "you’re going to have to ask."

"Ask?" Stacy’s head swam in disbelief. She felt a little dizzy, probably from the drink. "Ask?"

Neil lay down on the bed, put his hands behind his head and grinned over at her. "You’re going to ask me to fuck you," he told her. "And then, if you ask nicely, I’ll do it."

"You’re out of your mind!" Stacy tried to get up from the couch, but stumbled against the coffee table and sprawled back onto her ass, knocking over a pile of magazines. "I’m not going to ask you…"

"Alright," Neil interrupted her. "Then go." He pointed towards the door. "But by the end of the school day tomorrow, that tape will be in Dr. Grossmann’s office." (Dr. Grossmann was the school principal.)

Stacy lurched back to her feet, carefully this time, her head spinning. "B-but…"

"Well?" Neil was relentless. "What’s it going to be?"

Stacy grasped at a straw. "But you said yesterday that I wasn’t supposed to swear around you," she begged. "You said it made me sound cheap." She was more than a little humiliated at having to make this argument, but it was all she had. Surely he wasn’t going to force her to…