You find a surprising name in her contacts

"God it's like a who's who in here," you mutter, scrolling through the list of names in her cellphone. "Jock, cheerleader, jock, rich girl, jock, cheerleader... isn't that guy a stoner? And that one a thug? Man, I think that guy's a dealer. And that's the girl with the mansion. Hey..."

You stop, staring at the phone. Amongst the names of the rich, beautiful, cool, or titillatingly dangerous, you see an unlikely name.

"Richard Jerkins? Dick 'jerk-off' Jerkins? Dick 'The Prick'? "

Even for you that guy's too nerdy. Not to mention an asshole. You might be a geek, but this guy's a nerd's nerd, dedicated to knowledge and science to a disgusting degree. Not to mention he's a know-it-all and constantly correcting people.

The fact that his world-famous scientist parents are rich helps him avoid some beatings, but mostly it just gets him called 'Rich Jerk' and 'Richie Rich'.

"Oh man, I've gotta find out what he's doing in her contacts. If I can figure out how to dial," you finish, and without realizing it at first you stick your tongue out the corner of your mouth as you concentrate on figuring out what buttons to press.

At long last you make the call, waiting a couple of rings before a voice answers. "What?"

"Richie!" you exclaim, flopping back on to the bed. "This is Sue calling."

"Obviously. My call display told me that long before you did," he says in that annoyingly nasal voice. " I'm in the middle of something. What do you want?"

"Gee Richie, I thought we could... play," you say with a giggle, hoping you're playing him right.

"Play?" he sounds wary.

"Oh yeah. You see, I desperately need to get some sausage and I could really use a ride from you. How fast can you come?"

Wait, that didn't come out quite right, you realize.

"I'll be right over," he says, and hangs up before you can fix the possible misunderstanding you might have created. Surely a genius wouldn't misunderstand or assume you were saying something dirty, would he?

Sighing you turn to the clothes you'd pre-selected. They'd been chosen for their tease-value, as well as simplicity. You know that you'd love to see a hot chick get into your car wearing a little bikini top and tight hotpants.

Unfortunately the bikini proves a little more difficult than anticipated, and you have to rotate it to tie it, the strings seemingly barely able to make a knot unless you pull hard.

The hotpants require a lot of wriggling and tugging to get them on. When at last they're on you find they fit like bodypaint. As you stare at your ass in the mirror you think, 'Thank God you didn't put on panties or they'd show through.'

The thought that maybe you should change crosses your mind, but before you can seriously contemplate it a car honks long and loud outside the house.

"Richie?" you wonder, and go to the window, spotting a shiny black car in the driveway. "Coming!" you yell, slip on some shoes, and clatter down the stairs and out the door, totally forgetting your purse and failing to notice the blatantly obvious camel-toe that your snug shorts have revealed.

You hop into the car without thinking or even looking. "That was quick. You really want to give me a ride, don't you?" you say with a grin, buckling your seat-belt before looking across the car.