The two weeks to prom came and went swiftly, and yet somehow not fast enough. Amy didn't make it any easier on the both of us - continuing to set time aside for our daily jog was one thing, but it seemed that after our public performance and awkward confession, something inside of her clicked. Where she was once content to tease me just to drag me along for a while, now she was completely wild, stretching and posing and stroking herself in all sorts of tantalizing ways when the two of us were alone. It never got as crazy as my gambit did, but she managed to make it maddening as hell. Worse still, she upped the ante by forbidding any close contact between us.
"But why?" I couldn't help whine, after she smacked my hand before I could go for her perfect ass.
"Because, you smug little creep, it's going to be all the better when I finally blow your mind into a million pieces on prom night," she sneered as she leaned in towards me. "So that means no humping, no groping, no jacking or jilling. When prom night comes I'm going to fuck the ever-living shit out. Of. You." She punctuated each word with a flick of my nose, before kissing me gently on the forehead.
"You're a madwoman, you know that?" I smirked.
"Should've known what you were getting into," Amy retorted playfully, treating me to another view as she squeezed her own buttcheeks against her taut shorts. "Now catch me if you can, stud."
As the days counted down to that wondrous evening, to say that Amy and I drove each other round the bend was an understatement. Between school and getting ready for the big event, we took every opportunity to remind ourselves of our little arrangement. While she flaunted her meticulously sculpted body, I got as close as I could to touching her without violating our terms. Breathing against her sensitive spots like her ears and neck proved to be the most effective, and she would shudder visibly whenever I caught her unaware, obviously heavily aroused but not able to do anything about it.
Of course, all that changed when it came to the actual day itself. Not because we were ready to jump each other - but because despite all the time and money we spent planning beforehand, prom turned out to be a wreck and a half.
It all started with what came to be known as "Stephanie-tastrophe". By the time all of the guys showed up outside Talia's house, we came upon the sight of six girls running around like headless chickens, with their make-up only half done - to say nothing about their clothes. Apparently Stephanie had a bizarre accident involving a curling iron and paper towel, resulting in her hair catching fire. If not for the importance of the event it was actually funny to watch.
Naturally, this meant that we had fallen way behind schedule. By the time the girls were ready, it left only a few minutes to have our pictures taken, during which our parents buried us under an avalanche of camera flashes and shouted instructions. As it turned out, most of the photographs ended up blurry, and most of the ones that didn't had half of us looking in the wrong direction or cut out from the picture entirely.
After it was decided none of the photos could be used, we piled into the limousine we'd rented only to find that the air-conditioner had broken down. We spent the trip to prom in silence, baked to a golden finish from the sweltering summer heat, all piled up against each other. The afterparty was the last thing on our minds.
Luckily, things did pick up after we reached our destination. Our group made quite the impression upon arrival, with most of the heads in the hall turned to fire stares in our direction. There was no denying the "You lucky bastards" look in many of the male glances; the girls were absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. And by the time we started dancing, I took the opportunity to behold each and every one of their heavenly forms.
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