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"Just kiss it, Kate. You're either going to love it or you won't, so you might as well find out now."

I shivered. Nobody had ever spoken to me like that, not even the nuns back at convent school. And certainly nobody who'd spent the last... I didn't want to think how long it had been, but it certainly wasn't long... sweet talking me so smoothly; so sweetly, that it was the most natural thing to respond to his kisses; to move with his caresses; and to squeeze when he placed my hand on his crotch, then flexed the monster in response.

I snapped back with the only admonition I could think of.

"It's Katharina."

"Plain Kate, bonny Kate," he mocked. He was raising his hips, pressing my head down towards the bulge. I wondered if I could distract him while I worked out what I should do. But how do you distract an erection that... without even thinking, I spread my fingers as wide as they would go, and his hard-on carried on way past my thumb and pinky... that huge?

I could have brought up the election, I suppose, but he'd probably just think it was rhyming slang. Or the upcoming feast day? Maybe... but no. He didn't kiss like a guy who got soft about holidays.

Another squeeze. Right now, I doubted whether he got soft for anything, and I wracked my mind to figure out how this evening had gotten so surreal. I knew it was my sister Bianca's fault, but it was probably a little bit mine, as well. I'd been a bit down for a couple of weeks now; in fact, I'd been an outright misery. Work problems, man problems, money problems - you name it, I found a problem there.

So finally, tonight, when I got in from my lessons, she pushed me into my bedroom where she'd already laid my clothes out, and told me she was taking me to a small ball she'd heard of. Dancing. And drinking. And partying. "And, if everything goes to plan, Kate, maybe we'll get you laid as well."

Which, when she put it that way, sounded like one helluva plan. Which shows how much thought I put into it, right?

Three things. I'm not a virgin, I'm not a prude, and I'm not averse to sucking cock. In fact, I rather enjoy it. Just not within fifteen minutes of meeting. And not on a couch that we're sharing with two other "courting couples," at the party thrown by one of Bianca's friends that I'd somehow allowed her to talk me into attending.

Delaying tactics. "Can we go some place quieter?"

Petruchio... although he called himself Peter... grunted. "No-one's watching."

I thought quickly. "They will. Believe me." I smiled and I hoped my eyes were sparkling wickedly. In fact, I think they must have been. Something caused his trouser snake to jerk beneath my hand, anyway. He stood up. "Come on, then."

He took my hand, as if knowing that I'd been wondering whether I could just slip away unnoticed; led me through the crowded ballroom towards the doorway. I caught Bianca's eye and she gave me a wide grin. I mouthed an "oh my God," but - as she told me later - my heart didn't seem to be in it. Because out in the dark of the hallway, with just a few other shifting shadows for comfort, things maybe didn't seem quite as bad.

He leaned against a wall, pulled me close for quite the most forceful kiss I have ever had, and put my hand back on his cock. I let him do it, and I let him undo his belt and unbutton his trousers, too, and now my hand was on his thin under-garments, feeling the heat of his prick through the fabric. And feeling my own body start to respond. The traitor.

I looked around. The darkness was ... well, it was dark. Light came in through the crack in one mostly-closed door, and there were voices in

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