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One look at that arse in those panties and he's as hard as a rock."HEY NIGEL!" she yelled. When he turned, realised she wasn't with him and stopped she added, "Do you want me to do something about that?" and she pointed at his erection that was spearing the air.Nigel laughed as he looked down at his hard cock and then back to Anne. "Uumm! Now that might be a good idea." He looked at his watch. "And the 'Fuck Hut' does stay open until the last of the teacher's leaves."Maybe you could use some company." It was then we realised that the blonde haired year ten girl had stopped and was about to head back towards us. "Especially as I seem to be part of the inspiration for that," and she pointed at Nigel's erection."I don't suppose you come with a name," grinned Anne. "I mean if Nigel is going to fuck you shouldn't he at least know who he's fucking?"She held out her hand. "Layla McQueen."Anne took it, but only to pull her into an embrace. When they were pressed body to body and hands were. "You're my girl Lorraine," he said. "My girlfriend."I felt scared when I giggled, replying, "Tommy. My boyfriend, TommyBennett." I was riding the wave here but it was going so fast and Ididn't know where it would end or if I wanted it to."Let's dance," he shouted, grabbing my wrist and dragging me through thepress of people again before waiting for my reply, and as he pulled me Icaught my reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar: a scared anddrunken-looking teenage girl with too much flesh showing.Where was the woman I was meant to be? Where were the glasses and chubbyarms?I felt so drunk suddenly. I didn't know what was happening to me. But atleast I had Tommy with me. He'd keep me safe. He could be a right nastyfucker if he had to be; a real bad boy, but that was why I liked him.It was the reason why I'd shacked up with him last year; why I couldn'tget enough of him.14CHARLESThis was like nothing else: to dance with such abandon, to know I wasn'tmyself anymore, that I was this.
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She told herself to stop worrying about it and to stop being so paranoid. From her dark, out-of-the-way corner, she saw him enter. His grey hair was cut short and she could see where he was balding in the center of his scalp on top. Some young women would just say that he was too old if he had hit on them, but, to Cheyenne, he was "beautiful". Her hands already longed to reach out and touch the slightly wrinkled skin of his arm; she wanted to run her fingertips gently along his jawline. She stepped out of the dark and into his line of sight. He saw her and it was obvious that he was not trying to rush to her. She noticed that he seemed eager to see her, eager to meet her. She felt herself tremble and then willed it to stop, but it all failed. He reached her. "Cheyenne?" he asked. All she could do was nod. She could not swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. She hated the fact that the first words that wanted to escape from here lips were, "Can I touch you?" .

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