Message-ID: <30716asstr$992052603@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <news@google.com> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: RevCottonMather@excite.com (Reverend Cotton Mather) X-Original-Message-ID: <7492c5fa.0106081242.745d99c6@posting.google.com> Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: 8 Jun 2001 20:42:23 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Hard Promise (5/13, plus P.S.) by Reverend Cotton Mather (mf, rom) Date: Fri, 8 Jun 2001 22:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/30716> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, RuiJorge ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Welcome to the Church of The Right Reverend Cotton Mather. This story is the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or downloaded for the intent of profit. Permission is freely given for anyone to download or copy for their personal pleasure or use, as long as there is no intent to charge money or barter for the privilege of acquiring this material. (copyright 2001, Rev. Cotton Mather) ------------------------------------------------------------------------ HARD PROMISE by Reverend Cotton Mather - 5 - "Hey, Doofus!" I turned around at hearing the familiar voice. Jared Felson was walking toward me down the hall. His locker was just down from mine, and we often stopped to talk before our first-period class. "You talking to me, Shit-for-Brains?" I grinned at him. "Shit for brains? Me? I'm not the one who's got the brown eyes, oh observant one." "Just because the eyes are brown doesn't mean I'm full all the way up to there with bullshit, like a certain overconfident running back I happen to know," I shot back. "Hey, not overconfident, just sure of my abilities," he replied. "Besides, I'm not the one who was walking out of the party Friday looking like I was constipated and in some serious pain," he added with a grin. "Well, that was Friday, and I'm feeling right fine on this Monday morning, but thanks for your concern," I said. "So, Ray, what's up with you and the delectable Miss Melissa? Brit tells me you guys disappeared into the basement for quite awhile, and didn't hardly come up for air." "You know," I said, looking up and down the hall. I really didn't want any eavesdroppers on this conversation. "I saw your sister down there too, but I'm surprised she even noticed us. She looked like she was too busy liplocked with Donny to pay attention to anything else." Jared looked pained when I said that. I knew he wasn't terribly fond of Brittany's boyfriend. "Ah, shit, you had to go and tell me that, didn't you? Well, at least it was our house, and there were a bunch of us around. That little fuck wasn't gonna try anything much with most of the football team there. I just wish Brit would get tired of his skinny ass soon. I'm tired of his smirks, but I can't kick his ass while she's still hanging on to it," he said. "Maybe she just needs a little of the good lovin' from the Ray Machine," I said to him, giving him my best Groucho Marx eyebrow shimmy. "Nope," he said with a smile. "You're too tall and big for Brittany. She likes 'em skinny. Besides, the Ray Machine is, I believe, in the process of being wrapped up and stamped with a big 'Hands Off' sign by someone else in a letter sweater." "Does this mean that Melissa is coming off your list now, buddy?" I asked. "No way!" he called back as he walked toward his first-period classroom. "She stays on the list until she finds out what a true doofus you really are, and decides to try the obvious quality of a star running back instead!" "Ain't gonna happen, Jared. She doesn't know any quality running backs!" We waved at each other across the sea of heads starting to fill the hallway as we went our separate ways. Later that night I just couldn't resist. I was tired and cranky from doing homework and not being able to talk to Missy. Fuck it, I said to myself, and I called Melissa's house. "Hello?" It sounded like her mother had answered. "Hi, is Melissa there?" "Who is calling, please?" She sounded suspicious. "Um, this is Ray. I'm in her Algebra class, and I have a question about our homework," I said. There was a pause. "Just a minute," she said. I heard the handset hit something hard. There was a loud thunk, then silence. A small voice came on. "Hello?" "Hi, it's me," I said. "What are you doing?" she fiercely whispered. I think she had her hand covering her mouth and the microphone on the handset. "I just wanted to talk to you. I told your mother I had a question about Algebra." "Algebra?" she said louder. "Just a minute, I'll get my notebook." Then, quieter, she whispered, "Don't hang up." After a couple of minutes I heard another telephone being picked up, and Missy's voice called out, "Mom! Hang up the downstairs phone! I've got it up here!" She waited until she heard the click of the other telephone hanging up, then whispered to me, "What, are you nuts? You know how my parents are!" "I missed you. I didn't see you all day today, except at lunch. Besides, they're going to have to find out about us someday, aren't they?" "Yes, of course, but not TODAY, you goof! What am I going to do with you?" she said, almost to herself. I lowered my voice into what I hoped was a seductive tone. "Would you be open to some suggestions?" I asked. "Ray! You are terrible!" But I could hear just a trace of a giggle in her voice. Score another point for the Ray Machine. "Listen," I said quickly. "A bunch of kids are planning on getting some rooms at the Holiday Inn for after the Snowflake Dance in December. Do you think you can talk your folks into letting you stay out all night?" "Oh, God. I doubt it, I really doubt it. Besides," she added pointedly, "nobody's even asked me to the dance yet." "Hey, not my fault," I said hastily. "Your parents haven't let you date yet, and I didn't want to be turned down, you know?" "Well, they might make an exception for one of the big events of the school year. I'll work on them. Does this mean that you're going to ask me out if I can convince them that I'm old enough to go out on a date?" "You could ask ME out, you know. It shouldn't always be up to the guy anymore." "With my parents, that'll be the day," she grumbled. "Okay, if you insist, then I'll do the asking. Melissa Samuelson, light of my life and holder of my heart, will you accompany me to the Snowflake Dance?" There was a pause long enough that I wondered if she was still on the line. "Do you mean that, Ray?" she asked quietly. "Of course I do, Missy. I would like you to go to the dance with me. What did you think?" "Not that part, dummy. The other part." "What? Light of my life and holder of my heart?" "Yes, that part. Do you mean that?" Suddenly I knew that this was very important to her. The glib answer I had ready died on my lips. "Yes," I said softly. "I mean it. I belong to you until you send me away." There was another long pause. Then, so softly I barely heard, she whispered, "Thank you, Ray. And I am yours, too. Good night." And with that the line went dead as she hung up the phone. Oh my God, what did I do? I thought to myself. Suddenly I was nervous. Did I just commit to something? Did my mouth just make a promise that my body wouldn't be able to keep? Christ in a Bucket, I hope I didn't just step into some very deep shit, I thought. I didn't sleep very well that night. (Continued in Chapter 6) www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ReverendCottonMather/www -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+