After Prom

The motor of the car is chilled as Ava steps out of prom.  She runs through the sleet and then she trips over the sidewalk, before stepping into the passenger seat.  She looks to Pete who smiles - he is glad she looks so pretty tonight; seeing her like an angel makes him feel good... almost proud that he should be there to drive her home.

"Did you dance?"

"Oh yes!"  sings Ava as she brushes sleet out of her eye-lashes.  "A darn great time;"

Pete drops his pride.

"Foul words are best for the bathroom!"  he grumbles before he starts the car.


Pete tries the feel comfortable however the word darn sits like a thorn in-between his brows; it stings  him and hurts him and he wishes he hadn't heard the word.  Ava always had a potty mouth -  but tonight he seems extra heart-broken... his pride has been stung; and feeling the lapse makes his heart ache and so he drives to the side of a street curb and parks.

"I need a cigarette;"  he mutters before he reaches into the glove compartment for a fag.

He lights it and then he stares out at the foggy lights in the distance.  It is dark and the street is empty, there is an odd silence that makes his ears forget that they can listen.  To this silence he dreams some pretty thoughts about music and furniture... but then he pops the bubble to look to Ava who eyes the cigarettes in the glove compartment with curiosity.

"Can I take one?"  she asks reaching out.

"No!"  mutters Pete before he slams the compartment closed.  "No good;"  he drawls as he grows self-conscious over his own naughty habits. 

"But you..."  mutters Ava.

"Older;"  retorts Pete before he turns his head.

The warmth inside of his chest grows to waft through the air, and he feels the need to open the window a bit.  However he keeps it closed knowing Ava's arms to chill if he opens the window and so he sits with his fag in the heat until time to butt the stub.

"Well that was my break;"  he tells Ava who turns her head to him.

She looks pretty -  really pretty; light the light shining through the window makes her look invisible.  Pete grows fond of her look, however the thought of settling on this makes his spine prickle.  He shakes his head and looks away.

"Take your make-up off when we get home;"  he tells.

Ava nods and then she looks out the window -  it is night and dark, and it spooks her.  She wishes she could feel comfortable looking out at the dark shadows but she can't.  There is unsettle like every shadow there could be a knife behind it.  She screams inside of her head, and then a kiss on her neck makes her scream for real.

"Stop!"  she cries out but Pete keeps kissing -  there is no one looking and he feels good doing it; her skin is chilled but warm and rubbing a hot tongue over it makes him feel more masculine.  He moves his mouth back and forth and then up and down -  it doesn't matter what way he moves, only matters to do it in a sensual way.  


Sooner or later Ava settles down and she sits there as Pete ravishes her neckline.  She waits with patience before a yawn breaks out.

"You want to sleep?"  asks Pete.

Ava nods.

"Let me help you slip into the back;"  mutters Pete before he slips out of the can.

Ava is relieved to have him off her body and in a trance she slips out of the door he opens to head towards the back.

"Do you need a blanket?"  asks Pete as Ava slips inside.

"Yes;"  she tells glad to be offered the extra covering.

Pete races to the trunk to get the blanket from the back, and then he moves to the back of the car and he slips inside and crawls over Ava who is already laying down.


There is a ruffling of pretty-coats, the sound of elastic breaking, and of pants being undone.  Pete trembles as he widens her legs, and then he sweats as he pushes himself inside.  There are moans and petty words, but the loudest sound is the slap of skin against skin.  It roars through the small space as sweat and sex fills the atmosphere, and then... dead... the silence returns.


Pete moves to the front seat and drive home.  He feels almost proud, but somewhere inside of his mind is disappointment... when he had creamed she had sworn, and so he had left cat-scratches over her thighs.

"Can't you speak better?"  he asks as he shakes his head.  "Can't you ever be good?"  he questions as he drives on.