Chapter 1
| The Story | The Authors |
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| Steve began to rub his hand down Chrissy's body, causing Chrissy to shiver with delight. She giggled, then suddenly sat up and asked him to stop for a minute. "Sorry, Steve, but I want to capture this special moment so I can remember it forever and ever." Steve beamed at her. At last he has found a girl who wasn't just a cheap slut, but a cheap slut who had a streak of sentiment in her. "Anything you want, darling," he whispered. Chrissy got up and headed downstairs. Steve was puzzled. Where the hell was she going? He heard the front door open and close again. He heard muffled voices downstairs in the foyer, but could only recognize Chrissy's. He got up to listen at the doorway when her heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Quickly he sat back down on the bed and Chrissy entered the room. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Steve my love." She looked bright and perky, and her nipples reflected that. Steve licked his lips and motioned her to come to him. She sat down next to him and kissed him on the mouth. "Ohh..this is so exciting!" she exclaimed. "Who was that downstairs?", asked Steve. "Oh that's the surprise!, " said Chrissy. Then she called out, "Pietro! Pietro dear! Come on in!" Steve thought to himself -- who the hell is Pietro?? Then a strange looking man with a pencil-thin moustache walked in and bowed. "This is Pietro de Scuzzi, Steve. He's going to capture our moment of ectasy!" "Oh...oh yes, whatever you say Chrissy." Steve wasn't all too comfortable with that idea, but he wanted to satisfy Chrissy's needs and desires. So he agreed to it. Steve took a good look at this Pietro. He was an odd looking man, not too short, not too tall, kind of scrawny and malnourished. That odd looking moustache went well with his rat-like face. Steve chuckled to himself at the sight of Pietro's beanie. Nice touch, he thought. Then he wondered where Pietro's video equipment was. It was no where to be seen. "Umm...where is his camcorder?," Steve asked Chrissy. "His what? Oh...that. No, Steve, he's not going to videotape us. Silly, Pietro is a sketch artist. He's going to draw us making love in caricature." "He's gonna WHAT???" shouted Steve. | |
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Although he wanted to continue he found himself pre-occupied and apprehensive.
The back of his neck was tingling with nervousness. He began to sweat and found it hard to breath. He held her hand and said, "Not yet. We can't do this now. I'm having problems and need some time to adjust. How about we go camping this weekend, and we can hike and talk and go swimming?" | |
| She looked at him with a quizical smile. Her eyes were so sweet at times they could break his heart. He got his things together and left, although she asked him to stay. He knew she would be fine and he had to get out. He was feeling suffocated but he didn't know why. He wanted to get on his bike and ride around the city. He felt a sense of urgency but he didn't know what for, as if he was late to something or had to be somewhere. It was as if she was too intense, and being away from her gave him the chance to reflect and take it in slowly, comprehensibly. He'd never felt this way before, but had always looked forward to feeling this way. Or so he thought. | |
| He drove his bike around the city all night. Trying to figure out the slurred emotions. He knew he still loved her. The intensity of his hurt sank straight to his heart. He knew he cold love no more. He then turned mean and angry at the world but he was truely mad at himself. For days he walked around like a zombie. Sometimes wishing he could turn back time. He told his best friend Jeff to get the heck away. His parents didn't notice they had too busy schedules. The teachers were concerned and when he started hanging out with the wrong bunch of kids at school he started doing a lot of things bad. These weren't spitting on a teacher bad but really bad. Like for instance he..... | |
| He flushed cherry bombs down the toilets in the boys bathroom and destroyed all the ancient plumbing. And then there was the time he set fire to the garbage bins in the cafeteria and set off the fire alarms just so he could ditch school. He was finally caught after he had planted pot seeds in life lab. Did he really think he could get away with all of these childish pranks? Vashondra du Lunchenette didn't think so. Neither did her best friend and sidekick Bitzy Bootleg. The two fabulously stylish women sipped their martinis and scoffed at his pathetic reform school exisence. "What really gets me," Vashondra said as she munched on a garlic stuffed olive, "is that these idiots think they are so frocking clever." "I agree," agreed Bitzy, "They have delusions of revelutionary grandeur. I need a refill, love." Bitzy passed her cocktail glass to Vashondra. Vashondra reached into her three foot high strawberry blond beehive hairdo and pulled out a polished chrome cocktail shaker and poured Bitzy Bootleg a fresh Martini. Bitzy tossed back the martini in a single gulp and then decided to go for a ride on the little bastard's motorcycle. |
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