New Year's Resolution

And his mind was working overtime elsewhere. Despite her apparent diss of his advances, Dan was still having wet dreams of Ashley virtually every night. Thank God he was regaining his ability to concentrate during the day.

His roommate Tom's girlfriend Marci was out of town for a visit with her grandmother. Dan was happy, since Marci stayed over plenty of nights at their apartment when she was in town. The sound of Tom's bed squeaking against the wall – not to mention Marci's unabashed moans of pleasure – would have just added to Dan's frustration.

Dan, Tom and Alyssa shared a cab to a "Ring in the New Year" shindig at the Marriott. It was being hosted by one of the big law firms in the city. It was a recruitment weapon, directed at the top third-year law students. Ashley Martin would not be there. Despite her good looks, she was in no danger of cracking into the upper echelon of the law school's elite scholars. Apparently old Randall wasn't the only prof who was able to resist her charms.

Halfway through the cab ride, Tom broke the silence. "So, Dan, ready to get plastered tonight?" he goaded. "It'll help you forget the Contracts exam."

"And it'll help you to forget the BITCH," goaded Alyssa.

"Guys – guys!" chided Dan. "I'm over it. I know when I'm beaten."

"More like 'whipped'," countered Alyssa.

Tom broke into a raucous cackle. "Good one, you little sprite!" he snorted.

"I'm trying for 'vixen' or even 'nymph'," she laughed. It appeared she was finally getting into the celebratory mood.

"Careful," Tom retorted, "or I may test you out on that. When the cat's away, the mice will play..."

The slap across his cheek sounded worse than it felt. Still, it stung Tom's skin and his pride. Maybe Alyssa wasn't ready to celebrate just yet.

"God, woman!" bellowed Tom, "You're fucking dangerous! Every time I turn around, it seems like you elbow me in the ribs, punch me in the arm, kick me in the shins, slap me in the face..."

"And I can't WAIT for a shot at another part of your anatomy!" she countered.

"In your dreams, Beauchamp. In fact, you're wound up so fuckin' tight, that part of my anatomy is probably exactly what you need a shot at. You need a good boning!"

"Guys – guys! Break it up!" Dan interjected.

They rode in silence the remainder of the way. As they exited the cab and made their way into the hotel with their overnight bags, Dan noticed a tear winding its way down Alyssa's cheek.

The law firm had anticipated a night laced with heavy alcohol consumption. So in addition to the free cab rides to the event, they had provided free guest rooms for each of their invited guests. Aside from impressing the recruits, the move demonstrated the firm's shrewdness. You need to take positive steps to limit your liability when fueling guests with liquor, especially a group of budding young lawyers.

Still reeling from the exchange between his buddies in the cab, Dan tossed his overnight bag onto the desk in the sitting area, pulled his shoes off and lay back on the king-sized bed. The party would be starting in half an hour. There was time to catch the end of a bowl game on TV before he changed to his suit and tie.

As he watched, Dan thought about the New Year's resolution he had made at the beginning of the year, 364 days ago. It was a secret he had shared with Tom, but with nobody else. This would be the year he would lose his virginity. And now there were less than 7 hours to go before the end of the Year of the Virgin.

******

The hotel ballroom glittered with New Year's Eve decorations. A banner hanging over the dance floor proclaimed "Party Like It's 1932!" – a sly reference to the Donoghue v. Stevenson decision, the "snail in the ginger beer" case which established the foundation for modern tort law and secured the livelihood of an army of ambulance chasers in the decades since.

Dan was greeted by a luscious, bosomy young hostess, clad in sequined evening gown, who insisted on pinning a name tag on his suit jacket. He found himself staring at her sexy cleavage. Actually, she found him. He turned crimson when she used her index finger to tilt his chin upward. "I'm up here," she smiled.

"Not all of you," Dan wanted to reply. But, instead, he blushed and hurried away.

As he strode toward the bar area, Tom closed alongside him to his left and Alyssa to his right. His roommate whispered in his ear, "Time for you to get laid. Tonight!"

Tom nodded to his and Dan's right, then winked at his best friend. Alyssa was now just a step away.

"You're full of shit!" Dan sputtered back. His return volley was well above a whisper.

"I could've told you that," Alyssa said to Dan, though wholly unaware of their topic of discussion. "Tom's always full of shit. He doesn't just need boots; he needs hip waders. At least he chose his profession honestly."

A tall, well-groomed middle-aged man standing nearby who reeked of bourbon and "senior partner" cackled at Alyssa's witticism. He eyed Alyssa, arched his left eyebrow as he surveyed her from top to bottom, and offered to bring her a drink.

"Strawberry daiquiri – thanks," she replied. The man strode toward the bar, turning to grin back at Alyssa halfway there.

"Looks like Mr. Greying-at-the-temples-let-me-shove-my-cock-in-some-starstruck-intern has the hots for you," teased Tom, "I hope you shaved your legs today."

"You're a prick, Tom Stanley," countered Alyssa.

"And you're a prude," Tom laughed.

"Am not. My legs weren't the only part of my body I shaved today."

For a moment, it appeared that both Tom and Dan had choked on the same type of unexpectedly spicy hors d'oeuvre. But the hotel staff with the hors d'oeuvre plates had not yet made it to their part of the room. Both were instead choking on the visual of their female buddy Alyssa shaving for the party.

"Smokin!" Tom finally answered. "I knew there was a sexual deviant inside there waiting to get out. I bet you brought your leather outfit and whips to the hotel, too."

"In your dreams, Mr. not-so-manly Stanley. If I want to make a man beg, I don't need any extra equipment to do it."

"Pretty fine equipment you're packing already," Tom agreed, surveying her satiny blue dress. It had given her normally boyish figure more of a sexy Kate Moss model look. "Look, Dan – our baby sister is all grown up. She's now officially a hot piece of ass."

He should have anticipated Alyssa's knee to his stomach. But alas, Tom was – as usual – defenseless against the physical assaults of this tightly wound waif. He gasped for air.

"Just be thankful – it could've been your groin. Think twice before talking about me like some slab of meat again, asshole," Alyssa warned.

Tom caught his breath, rubbed his belly and was finally able to stand upright.

"Saved by the bell," he wheezed, "Mr. Salt-and-Pepper is on the way back, and he's loaded for bear."

As the law partner approached, Dan felt both embarrassed and mesmerized by the sexually charged exchange and ultimate spat between Tom and Alyssa. But, if he were honest with himself, he was more troubled by the visual in his mind of Alyssa shaving her pubic mound in preparation for the party. She had always seemed so asexual, so sisterly, that this newly-minted mental image could not be easily reconciled with his worldview.

"Here's your drink, beautiful," smiled the partner. Dan had a fleeting thought that the guy's dentist was probably racking up a fortune on caps and crowns.

"I'm Terrence Cox," he continued.

"More than one?" laughed Tom.

"I beg your pardon?" Terrence queried.

"Oh, nothing," Tom replied, waiting expectantly for Alyssa's kick to the kneecap. "I'm Tom – Tom Stanley, that is. And this beautiful young lady is Alyssa Beauchamp. And this dork beside us is Dan Traynor, the protector of Alyssa's virtue."

Terrence Cox looked crestfallen. "So – you have a boyfriend?" he asked Alyssa.

Alyssa's cheeks turned a bright scarlet. "Um – no, nah," she stuttered, "Not even close. Danny Boy's my study buddy."

"And another kind of buddy," Tom interjected, "as in – friends with benefits!"

Alyssa was incensed. "You lying bastard!" she huffed. Tom closed his eyes and waited for the punches to fly. But instead he felt the cold, slushy, creamy slop of strawberry daiquiri smack his forehead and drip down his face.

"Shit!" he bellowed, "Now I've gotta go get cleaned up. And I didn't fuckin' bring another shirt. I hope this damned girly drink comes out with soap and water!" He stomped an angry foot. "I'm goin' back up to my room," he continued. "You can be a real bitch, Alyssa. You really do need a good boning!" And with that, he marched off to the nearest exit.

Terrence Cox seemed perplexed, but suave and debonair (and horny!) enough to give it another go. Perhaps Tom's last comment strengthened his resolve.

"So – you're not attached?" he enquired.

"Well – no, not really, I guess," answered Alyssa, fidgeting nervously before glancing up at Dan. She bit her lip as they made eye contact.

Does she want me to save her from this sleazebag? Dan wondered to himself. He picked up a shot glass from the tray of a passing waiter and threw it back. Steeling his nerve, he decided he'd been lily-livered long enough when it came to the opposite sex. If he was wrong, he'd face the consequences – whether an elbow, a knee, a foot, a fist, or an open palm. But if he was right, he was going to rescue a damsel in genuine distress.

"Then, how about I take on the responsibility of escorting you this evening and introducing – " suggested Cox, until he was interrupted by Daniel Traynor.

"Excuse me, Mr. Cox," said Dan. "That really won't be necessary. Alyssa didn't exactly know how to answer you. She and I have been friends and study buddies for a long time, but we've just recently started dating. I'm sure she honestly didn't know whether to say she's attached – or not. She needed me to step up to the plate. And the answer is 'yes'."

Dan locked eyes with Alyssa. For one moment that felt like a lifetime, he wasn't sure whether she was going to laugh, cry or scream. But then she smiled. Not just a pleasant smile – a dazzling, light-up-the-room, take-me-to-the-moon, throw-rose-petals-on-my-bed fluorescent beam. He had never seen that smile from Alyssa before. Dan's heart leapt in his chest.

"That's right, Mr. Cox," Alyssa murmured in a husky, confessional tone, "I wasn't sure where my relationship with Dan was going. It definitely is not one of those fuck buddy – excuse my French – 'friends with benefits' but no strings attached sort of arrangements. We haven't consummated the relationship – yet."

Yet? Dan thought, his cock starting to wake from its peaceful slumber. Yet?

"But now that I know how he feels, I think I'll need for him to be my escort this evening," she concluded.

"No sweat, kids," Cox replied with a disdainful smirk, "I was just doing my civic duty as a partner at the firm. But please – send me an invitation to the wedding." His wounded pride would not allow him to bow out more gracefully.

Alyssa's eyes flashed fire at Terrence Cox's words. Hell hath no fury, and all that. But just as a stream of expletives was about to cross the threshold of her lips, the tender but insistent press of Dan's lips against hers averted the confrontation with the senior lawyer.

Dan backed away from the kiss only after Terrence Cox had taken his leave. Then he began to giggle.

"What the hell?" asked Alyssa, her countenance marked by confusion and anger.

"Just saving you from yourself," he retorted, "You were about to get yourself blacklisted from the firm."

"And that's why you kissed me?" She stared him down predatorily, her nose flaring, eyes blazing, shoulders twitching, body recoiling – an angry panther ready to pounce on its helpless prey.

Dan laughed again. "Not the only reason. You're know, you're beautiful when you're angry," he stated simply. And he was being truthful.

Dan realized at that moment that he had been blinded with his infatuation for Ashley Martin's model face and bodacious curves. His hormones had been working overtime. But right there in front of him – right in front of him for the last two and a half years – was someone who held a far greater beauty. Someone he genuinely liked and respected. Someone spirited enough to give him hell when he needed it. Someone whose eyes sparkled when she looked at him from behind those Tina Fey frames.

Yes, he had been blinded to the simple truth in front of him. This spirited waif – so intelligent, so funny, so full of LIFE – was no little sister.

He saw the question mark in her eyes. "I've been a total ass," Dan admitted.

"Damn straight you have," Alyssa confirmed. She crinkled her freckled nose before flashing him another megawatt smile. "Glad we're on the same page, Traynor."

Dan leaned in to kiss her again – this time for his own pleasure, not for her protection. "No PDA, dumbass," she warned.

Dan was mildly taken aback. Was she rejecting his genuine advances? "I'm not sure I understand," he began.

Alyssa beckoned him with a waggle of her index finger to come closer. She whispered just loudly enough for him to hear, "I'm afraid I might not be able to contain myself if you kiss me here in the middle of the ballroom. I just might jump your bones in public. It wouldn't advance either of our chances to latch on with the firm."

If Dan's cock had been lazily stirring from its slumber earlier, it was now entering full red alert status. Little Dan was saluting this blatant enticement from Big Dan's sisterly-buddy-turned-wanton-temptress. Jump my bones?

Alyssa took his hand in hers. "C'mon, sexy, dance with me," she insisted as she led him to the dance floor.

The band was named Blind Justice, and it consisted of several musically talented associates and partners at the law firm. They had begun playing a short while earlier, and were now transitioning from an upbeat tempo to a slow and sexy rhythm. The opening notes to Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight" wafted to Dan's ears. He was overcome with eager anticipation and something... darker: a growing sense of dread.

Dan politely placed one hand on Alyssa's back and the other out to the side, clasping her fingers, as they began to sway to the music. He noticed immediately that Alyssa's dress was backless. The sensation of his palm on her warm, bare skin jolted him with a sensuous response. Little Dan was now pulsing with the threat of early release.

At that moment, Alyssa wrapped her arms around the back of Dan's neck and pulled him close. Seeming oblivious to Dan's distended and vulnerable condition, Alyssa shifted her swaying – no longer side-to-side, but front-to-back. For all intents and purposes, she was inadvertently humping his crotch with her slender belly.

Dan's cock twitched once, then erupted in a massive orgasm. What seemed like a quart of cum spurted into his boxer briefs. Dan was sure the cum stain was rapidly spreading all the way through to the outside of his suit pants. "Oh, shit," he moaned.

Alyssa felt Dan's body stiffen and then back away from her. "Are – are you okay?" she asked.

"Uh – um... I don't know how to say this," he replied shakily.

Alyssa frowned in confusion, trying not to lose her composure. "Don't you want to dance with me?" she asked.

"It – it's not that," he answered.

"Then – then what's the matter?"

"Well, um, Alyssa," he stammered, "it's like this. The sprinklers came on during the national anthem."

"What – what the hell?"

"I dropped my coins in front of the slot machine," he exclaimed.

"You're confusing the hell out of me, Daniel Traynor," Alyssa retorted. "Do you want to dance with me or not?"

"Um, Alyssa," he continued, "I don't want to stain your dress."

"But how would you..." Alyssa's left eyebrow went up in Spockian discernment. The light bulb had come on. "Oh."

And then she began to giggle. And then to cackle. And snort. And bend forward at the waist with a full-body belly laugh.

Dan felt remorse and shame at his pre-dick-ament. And just when he thought Alyssa was going to completely lose it, her discerning eye caught sight of his embarrassment, and she stopped. Just like that. And she pulled Dan against her body and continued dancing with him.

And then she whispered in his ear. "Monica Lewinsky's got nothing on me," she quipped, as she pressed her blue dress against Dan's wet crotch.

"Thank you," he whispered back.

She fixed her gaze on his as they swayed to the music together. "And now that we'll both need to change out of our clothes," she asked, "shall we go back to your room, or to mine?"

******

Outside Dan's door, he fumbled nervously with the electronic card that would give him access back into the room. He dropped the card on the hallway floor. Alyssa was still holding his hand when he bent down to pick it up. It was a good thing, as he nearly toppled over with dizziness. She pulled him upright, sparing him major embarrassment for a second time that evening. Finally, with Alyssa's help, the two were able to make their way inside.

Just inside the door, Dan turned to Alyssa, ready to apologize. She smiled and touched the crotch of his pants, then lifted her fingers to inspect the sticky ejaculate. "Did I do this to you?" she asked innocently.

"Of course," Dan replied, "my little guys were just a little too anxious to greet you."

Alyssa smiled from ear to ear. "I just hope this doesn't mean you're out of commission for the whole night," she breathed huskily.

Dan pulled her close. "I hope so, too," he deadpanned.

"You mean...?" Alyssa's worried expression gave away her naïve belief. Hook, line and sinker.

It was Dan's turn to chuckle. Her punch to his bicep should have been better anticipated. But though it went unblocked, it was not intended to inflict serious damage. It might have even been better characterized as a love punch. But we stray too far too fast.

"I'm kidding. I don't think it'll be a problem," Dan replied.

But that sense of dread was growing in his gut. Not that he couldn't recover from his premature ejaculation. He'd jacked off enough times in a day to know that it wasn't an issue. Instead, the source of his dread was that Alyssa would realize he didn't know what he was doing when show time arrived. And it was fast approaching.

Alyssa sensed Dan's hesitation. "What's on your mind, Dan?" she asked patiently.

Dan was momentarily flustered. Then he had an idea. "Um, Al," he commenced, using her pet name to soften his suggestion, "what would you think of us getting plastered before we do this? After all, it's New Year's Eve, and there's free booze in the ballroom. And afterward, if you have any regrets, or fears about ruining our friendship, we could always blame our poor judgment on the alcohol." And you might not realize – or remember – that I'm clueless in the bedroom. His addendum went unspoken.

"Dan," she replied, "Let me be perfectly clear. You don't need to protect my honor. And I won't have any regrets. I want to be stone cold sober for this. To feel every touch. To remember every last detail. It's special," she smiled.

"If you only knew..." Dan muttered.

Alyssa tilted her head to one side. "Come again?" she queried.

This was it. The moment of truth. Or falsehood. Should Dan come clean?

"Um, Alyssa, I need to level with you. You may be in for a disappointment."

"Oh, God – you're gay?" The words escaped her lips before she realized how utterly ridiculous they were. The cum oozing through his pants was clear evidence to the contrary. She'd never be successful as a lawyer with such witless cross-examination techniques, she mentally kicked herself.

"No, not that," Dan answered, "I'm... I'm a... a virgin."

"What?"

"I'm a virgin. I'm five-eighths of the way to becoming the Steve Carell character in 'The 40 Year-Old Virgin'."