Danielle, Part Six: Prom Plans
by Sonofjack, sonofjackwell@gmail.com
Danielle models her prom dress to Mr. J.


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I got some nice comments for Part Four and Part Five so I decided to go ahead
and post Part Six. I have to tell you that this series just gets better and
better right up until the end. If you like what you're reading and want to see
Part Seven and Part Eight, let me know. Send your comments to
sonofjackwell@gmail.com

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It was only about a month before the end of the school year which meant that
both Danielle and Nicole would be graduating. For most seniors this is a very
busy time of year. They have final exams to worry about and post-graduation
plans to make.

This didn't necessarily apply to Danielle. She didn't have to worry about
final exam since she was going to get perfect 100 percent A's whether she
bothered to take them or not. When you're a drop dead gorgeous young woman
with the strength to punch holes in brick walls and crush file cabinets like
they were accordions, very few teachers have the nerve to deny you whatever
you want. I know I didn't. The fact that I was hopelessly in love with her
didn't make it any easier for me to deny her.

Regarding her plans for after she graduated, one time I asked her about that.
Her response was, "Plans?" as if the thought had never occurred to her. I
sometimes wondered if her "What? Me worry?" attitude was a facade. I mean,
surely she had to have some kind of idea or strategy for navigating life
didn't she? She surely wasn't planning on just going through life getting by
on her beauty and strength alone.

Then I thought about just how impossibly beautiful she was and how even more
impossibly powerful she was. That's when I realized that of course she was
planning on getting by on her beauty and strength. Why wouldn't she? It was a
good plan.

I found myself envying her. Wouldn't it be great to not have to worry about
anything - to be so confident of your abilities that you could just live
day-to-day and go where you wanted and do what you wanted certain that
everything would always work out?

Sometimes I'd even wanted to get down on my knees and beg her take me with
her. But I knew deep down that she would never take me along.

So as the school year was winding down, I still saw Danielle most days in
class. She'd walk in, smile and say, "Hello, Mr. J," and take her seat.

I'd say, "Welcome to class, Miss Thorn," as usual. She'd sit in her front row
seat and pay attention although she never took a single note. Whenever our
eyes would happen to meet she'd smile so sweetly at me that it was a challenge
to maintain my concentration. I knew that she was doing it on purpose, and she
knew that I knew it.

When class was over, she'd always trail just a few seconds behind the other
students so that she would be the last one out the door. She would always walk
very slowly towards the exit making sure to put a little extra sass in her
sashay because she knew that I'd be looking at her amazing, perfect ass. Just
before she'd walk through the door she'd turn and wink at me or say something
like, "Bye-bye, Cutie," or "Enjoying the view?" One time she even said,
"Wouldn't you love to take a bite out of that peach?" This was the best part
of my day, every day.

She must have been busy doing something, during those last several weeks of
school because she only stopped by my apartment once during that time. She
dropped by to model her prom dress for me. The dress, of course, was
strapless, very revealing and very sexy. "Don't you wish you could be my
date?" she asked.

"Yes." There was a time that I might have tried to deny it, but by this time I
figured there wasn't any point. She knew how much I wanted her.

"You know I might have considered asking you to prom if it wasn't so
'inappropriate' for a teacher to date his student."

"Inappropriate" was the word I used when we first became friends, and she was
NEVER going to let me forget it.

"I know that you think I'm crazy, Danielle, and maybe I am, but I still
believe that."

"I know, Mr. J. That's just one of the things that makes you who you are. But
I just want you to know that it's not too late. Say the word and I'll dump the
three dates I have and let you be my escort."

I can't lie. It was a tempting offer. I knew that I could get away with it
too. No one associated with Benjamin Franklin High School was going to
challenge ANYTHING that Danielle Thorn did. The rules did not apply to her as
she was fond of pointing out. Furthermore, I knew she had the power to extend
that immunity to me if she wanted to.

As I said, it was tempting. However, as tempting as it was, I felt that I had
already compromised my principles too much where Danielle was concerned.
Besides, I just would not accept that just because one COULD do something that
it meant that one SHOULD something. "I would love to be your escort," I told
her honestly, "If things were only different."

She flexed her right bicep for me. I watched as it grew to the size and
approximate roundness of a softball. I've watched her do this I don't know how
many times, but every time was just as amazing and as stimulating as the
first.

In fact, seeing her perfectly peaked muscles when she was wearing such a
beautiful and elegant gown made it even more exhilarating than usual. It was
exhilarating in a this-is-too-unbelievably-sexy-to-be-true kind of way. How
could such a delicate looking flower drip with such power?

My cock became instantly, fully engorged. Danielle watched the tent pole
growing in my pants. "I love knowing how much I turn you on, Mr. J," she said.
"And I admire you for sticking to your principles when I know how much you'd
like to take your big cock out and rub it against my huge biceps. Or maybe
you'd rather have me wrap my big tits around it?"

"Please, Danielle, show a little mercy," I begged.

"It's funny, Mr. J; most men beg me to talk dirty to them, and you're begging
me to stop talking dirty to you. But I remember the time when you fell to your
knees in this very apartment and begged me to show you my tits. Remember that,
Mr. J?"

"Yes, Danielle, I remember." Beads of sweat were starting to roll down my
forehead.

"And you still acknowledge that I own your dick, don't you, Mr. J?"

"Yes, Danielle," I replied.

"Do you know what I think, Mr. J?"

"What, Danielle?"

"I think that you want me to order you to take out your big cock. And why
shouldn't I since it belongs to me? I think that you want me to force you to
slide it between my big tits. Do you know why, Mr. J?"

I was so turned on that I could hardly stand it. "Why, Danielle?"

"Because if it's me calling all the shots, you don't have to take any of the
responsibility. At least that's what I think."

She was right. Why was she always so damn right?

"But anyway, Mr. J, as much as I like messing with you, I can't stand to see
you suffer like this." She walked over to me and sweetly embraced me around
the neck. She pressed her amazing tits into my chest and gave me a burning
kiss on the lips. She knew that this is all it would take for me to shoot my
load, so she quickly stepped away from me.

"I don't want to get your cum stains on my lovely dress," she explained.

My underwear filled with warm, milky liquid. "Hurry up and go change,"
Danielle instructed. "I'll wait."

When I returned with fresh underwear and pants Danielle said, "Mr. J, do you
have any idea what I'd normally do to any man that turned down an invitation
to go out with me?" As she asked me this, she flexed her right arm again.

"N-no," I replied. She was trying to intimidate me, and it was working. She
knew it.

She relaxed her arm and giggled. "I don't either because no man besides you
has ever turned me down. I've had happily married men leave their wives just
for the privilege of taking me out to dinner."

"I believe it," I said.

"Besides, I know that you'd go to the prom with me if I really wanted you to,"
she said. "All I'd have to do is pout my lips a little bit and slide up next
to you and press my big tits against you." She then proceeded to do those
things. She extended her bottom lip in a sexy little pout; she grabbed my arm
gently with both arms and pressed her bountiful breasts against me again.
"Please, Mr. J, please take me to the prom. Pleeeeease," she begged, "I
promise that I'll be a fun date. I promise, Mr. J. I'll be a really fun date."

My cock grew hard again. I was on the verge of shouting, "Yes, Daniele, YES!
I'll be you prom date. Please, let me escort you to the prom." Once again I
was ready to do her bidding. She owned more than just my cock.

I'm sure she knew it too. At the last possible moment before I threw the last
of my principles out the window and begged Danielle to let me be her prom
date, she unclenched my arm and said, "And even if that didn't work - and I
know that it would totally work - I could do this."

She grabbed my belt with one hand and effortlessly lifted me up in the air.
She flexed her giant bicep once again and said, "Mr. J, you're weak, and I'm
strong. I'm sooo strong and sooo sexy. That means that you have to do whatever
I tell you to do. Right now I'm telling you that we're going to the prom
together. Is that understood?"

"Y-yes, D-D-Danielle," I stuttered. What she said before was absolutely right.
I was excited by the idea of being forced to be her prom date. A few minutes
before she made me so feel passionate that I creamed my pants. Now she made me
feel so frightened that I was almost ready to piss my pants.

She gently set me down and giggled, "But I won't do that to you, Mr. J; I have
too much respect for you."

"Oh." I didn't know quite how to respond. I was sort of relieved and yet
terribly disappointed. Once again she played what I truly wanted against what
I thought I should want.

Then I wondered. Was she testing me again? Was she trying to find out if I had
the courage to say, "Fuck the rules!"? "Fuck what anyone else thinks!" Was she
trying to find out if I had the courage to do what I really wanted regardless
of the consequences? Or was she just playing cat and mouse games with me?

As I was pondering all this she said something that really blew my mind. "Have
you stopped to think, Mr. J, that you won't be my teacher very much longer?
But that's a stupid question. I'm sure that you've thought about that many
times while you're in bed jerking off." She was right again.

Trying to change the subject I asked her, "Do you have any plans for after the
prom?" She told me that she reserved a suite at the most expensive five-star
hotel in the state for her and her three dates. "But that place is a three
hour drive from here," I pointed out.

"Not by helicopter," she responded.

"You rented a helicopter? How can your dates afford that?" I asked.

"I'm paying," she replied. I didn't bother to ask her how she could afford it.
I knew that getting money was not a problem for Danielle.

"So, who are your three prom dates anyway?" She rattled off the names of the
three top runners on the Ben Franklin men's cross country team. "Why them?" I
asked. They didn't seem like the kind of boys that Danielle usually dated.

"I'm hoping that with their endurance that between the three of them they'll
be able to satisfy me sexually before they pass out like all of the men I date
do." Based on the look I must have had on my face Danielle added, "Don't be
jealous, Mr. J. You had your chance."

"Is Nicole going to the prom?" I asked.

"Why do you want to know that?" she asked angrily. "Are you going to call her
up and try to get her to come over here and suck your dick if she ISN'T going
to prom?"

"No! Absolutely not!"

She smiled. "Don't worry, Mr. J, I'm just messing with you." Then she abruptly
said, "Okay! Gotta run."

"But wait, Danielle. Don't I even get...?"

"What? A goodbye kiss?" She tilted her head sympathetically and said, "Poor,
Mr. J... you want me so bad, and yet you can't bring yourself to fully
commit."

"Danielle, I'm in love with you," I admitted.

"Of course you are," she said. She walked back over to me and put her arms
around me and pulled my face to hers. She lightly brushed her lips against
mine and said, "But why should I give another kiss to a man who doesn't even
have the courage to ask me to the prom?"

She turned and left.

I heard later the she was voted Prom Queen (of course) and that afterwards,
she turned over several limousines in the parking lot to make room for her
helicopter to land. I wish I'd have been there to see it.

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Thanks to everyone who sent in comments for Part 4 and Part 5 of this story.
There are still Parts 7 and 8 to go. Let me know if you'd like me to post
them. Email your comments to sonofjackwell@gmail.com