Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Second Best
Part: 021
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples and their
families through the period immediately preceding their Senior Prom.
Keywords: mf

Keywords for full story:  F-solo, Ff-inc, M+F Ffm MF mf oral anal bd D/s Mg-
inc Fm-inc mm mmf rom MF-reluc

Chapter 21
"You've got to bring ass..."

      For the guys, everything that needed to be said had been, so lunch
proceeded a bit more quietly.  Bobby wasn't going to admit that large parts
of his flashy relationship with Dina were fictional.  Rick's dirty laundry
had received a thorough airing - and he was not inclined to brag in any
case.  Tim and Terry were operating under the impression that they had some
catching up to do.

      Things were quiet until 6th period, when Nate Adams, a somewhat noisy
member of the black group that thought that they OUGHT to have Dolores'
attention, ran into Tim on his way back to the Science Building after
wrestling practice.  Nate had "Stick" Williams and "Draper" Travis along,
and he figured he'd give Tim some shit. "Hey there, White Bread!  What you
think you doin' poachin' black meat?"

      Tim gave Nate a jaundiced eye, "Nate, why don't you talk like a human?
I've heard you - I know you can do it..."

      "Why you avoidin' the question?  Howcum you're chasing black pussy
wit' that little dick o' yours?"

      "In the first place," Tim replied with exaggerated patience, "I didn't
notice YOU making any headway with Dolores - besides, I'm not sure she sees
herself as being anyone's property.  In the second, I'll be happy to compare
dicks with yours - shorter one sucks the longer one off!"

      "Stick" piped up, "Better pass on that, Nate - I seen him in the
showers.  You'll end up a cocksucker!"

      "So that's it!  She thinks you can compete with a bruthuh!  If I kick
you in the balls, you'll..."  Nate attempted to suit the action to the
words, but Tim wasn't having any.  He took a step back, then reached out to
give Nate's leg a rocket assist toward the sky.  Nate flopped rather solidly
on his back.

      Draper made his first comment of the afternoon, watching Nate get air
back into his lungs, "Dumb muthufuckah - pick a fight with the Cap'n of the
wrestlin' team!  Fuckin' stupid!"  Neither of Nate's companions made
anything resembling a move to assist in the assault.  Tim backed up against
the wall of the gym and leaned there, looking nonchalant, but wary.

      Nate rolled to his feet.  "Help me teach 'im not to mess wit' black
women!" he hissed.

      Tim eyed Nate, "Hey, I don't pitch a bitch when you chase white
chicks!  And there aren't THAT many to go around!  Suck it up!"

      "I'll..." Nate never finished the verbal threat - he took a run at
Tim, head first.  Halfway there, a blade appeared in his hand.  Tim kicked
Nate in the offending hand, (leaving it somewhat the worse for the wear)
then encouraged Nate to collide head first with the wall, leaving him flat
on his back with a bloody face.  Stick and Draper never moved, except for
the fact that Draper started slowly shaking his head.

      Tim looked at Draper.  "Are we done?"

      "Some a' us never started." Draper replied.  "No harm, no foul.  Dumb
muthufuckah," he continued, indicating Nate.  "All this shit over a bitch
who don't LIKE bruthas!  And DOUBLE don' like Nate!  She c'n do as she
pleases, that 'un!  'Sides, her Pa let it out he LIKES ya!  Mebbe Nate got
the message, now; I ain't wastin' MY time!"

      Stick shook his head, looking at Nate's somewhat bedraggled condition,
"Sheeit, Who'da thought Nate had a thing for walls?  Later, man."

      Tim moved out, affecting a fine mix of nonchalance and caution.

      By the end of the day, it was all over school.  Nate had come back
from the ER to get his suspension slip.  On the basis of several eyewitness
accounts, including those of Stick and Draper, Tim hadn't even been called
to the Principal's office.  In the school parking lot, Dolores spent 10
minutes looking for damage on Tim's body - swearing SHE'D kill Nate if he'd
given Tim a hangnail - before he could coax her into his car for the ride
home.  Once in the car, she glued herself to him, finding excuses to
'accidentally' come into contact with his crotch.  Finally, she looked up at
his grimacing face, as he attempted to concentrate on the road in the face
of the distractions she was providing. "Sugar, what are we doing AFTER the
Prom?" she asked.

      Tim glanced down at her face, locking eyes momentarily.  He knew a
loaded question when he heard one... "Hmmm.  I figured that we'd play it by
ear.  Ultimately, it'll be what YOU want."

      "But you plan to try to influence me, right?"  Dolores asked.

      Tim smiled, "Heavily."

      "Good.  We'll need a room.  I figure after all that dancing, we'll
need to rest... somewhere private."

      Tim's eyes continued to scan the road, but his face and body went
still.  "Baby..."

      Dolores removed all doubt, "I'll bring the rubbers.  You take the big
ones, don't you?"  She reached down and rubbed the full length of his sudden
erection through his jeans leg.

      "I gotta switch to briefs!" Tim groaned.  "Baby, you don't have to..."

      "The Hell I don't!  I'll be lucky to last THAT long!  I wanted the
pills to take, but it isn't gonna happen in time!"

      Tim's mind was awash, and his glands were running wild.  He whipped
the car around the corner onto the next side street, parked at the curb, and
shut down, then reached for the soft bundle of curves trying to fit herself
between his frame and the steering wheel.  "Lemme scoot over," he gasped.
Once he reached the center of the bench seat, things became a good bit less
tight.  Dolores turned completely around in the seat, lying semi-reclined
across Tim's lap with her arms around his neck, pressing her globular
breasts to his chest and her tongue between his lips.  They kissed hotly,
while Tim rubbed her back, groaning as his erection continued to extend
itself down his pants leg, crossing under her ass just at the point where
her steaming pussy was both heating and dampening the crotch of her capris.
After they had buried themselves in a universe that consisted solely in the
concentrated dueling of their tongues for a couple of minutes, Dolores
backed off breathlessly, unbuttoned her blouse, and popped the clasp on her
red lace bra, allowing her globular tits to spill out.  Tim's eyes bulged,
but unfortunately, so did his penis.  It had reached the point where it was
no longer flexible, and its insistent attempts to rise were causing him to
hunch forward. "Baby, I'm dying here!" he groaned, "I gotta make an
adjustment before it breaks off!"

      "Okay, Sugar!" Dolores replied, sliding off his lap.  She unzipped his
fly, and grasped his jeans and shorts at his hips on both sides.  "Raise up
- you're going to have to come out some - there's NO WAY you can just reach
in and get THAT moved around!"

      Tim pressed his hands to the seat, raising his buttocks off the seat
and using Dolores' grip on his jeans to lower them to his thighs.  When they
had worked the clothing down to mid-thigh, Dolores surprised him by reaching
in and gently extracting his cock from its entrapment.  It popped free, and
Tim lowered himself back to the seat - but Dolores didn't release it.
Instead, gasping softly, she moved her hand gently up and down the shaft,
obviously relishing the sight and feel of his 11" uncut length.  She gently
retracted the foreskin from around the velvety purplish head, fascinated by
the sight, the smell of Tim's obvious excitement.  Dolores leaned forward,
preparing to kiss the velvety tip, when...

      "Lordy!" came an exclamation through the open car window.  A middle-
aged black woman was standing there, holding a small dog's leash and staring
bug-eyed at the couple through the windshield.  "Girl, you better take that
thing home and bury it where it belongs in private!  You wave that hot poker
on the street in front of other poor women, and you'll have to fight to keep
it!  Sugah, if she don't take proper care of that, you come see me!  I'll
put my old man out of the house while I take care of it for ya!"  She
grinned hugely as the couple blushed and began rearranging their clothing.
The woman leaned on the car door and watched wistfully as Tim fought to get
his cock back into his pants.  Addressing Dolores, she declared, "Sugah, you
gotta winner there!  If my Ray had a telephone pole like that in his pants,
I'd nevah war panties an' he'd nevah leave the house!"  She grinned hugely,
"And he's a white, boy, too!  White boys' peckers are stiff!  You need to
take him somewhere comfortable, though - ain't no way he's gonna be able to
use that properly in no car!  Bye, now!"  She stepped back, and the couple
waved sheepishly as they pulled away from the curb.  Turning her attention
to the dog, she said, "Come on Puddie, Mama's hot and needs her ashes
hauled.   Lord oh Lord, Mama's gonna wear Ray out tonight!"

      As Tim pulled away from the curb, Dolores looked at him sorrowfully,
"I'm sorry, Sugar," she husked.

      "It's Okay, Babe.  There'll be another time."

      "That's for sure!"  Dolores took her time reclasping her bra, making
sure Tim got an eyeful, since he couldn't do more. She finished re-buttoning
her blouse as they pulled up in front of the Brown home.  Tim got out and
escorted Dolores up the walk; Padma met them at the door.  "Would you like
to come in for a bit?" she asked.

      Tim frowned, "If it isn't any trouble..."

      "No trouble."  Padma returned, smiling.  "You made big impression on
my Marcus!  You very welcome here!"  Tim shrugged, wrapped an arm around
Dolores' slim waist, and entered the Brown's working-class environs.