Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Strange Relationships
Part: 33
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples from Second
Best and their families.
Keywords: M+F

Keywords for full story:  rom, mf, MF, mmf, MFF, M+F, mm, F-solo, ir, D/s,
bdsm, mdom, spank, oral, anal, 1st, reluc, nc, voy

Strange Relationships

Copyright © Thinking Horndog, 2006 im_a_thinker@yahoo.com

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. Reproduction for profit
is forbidden.  Any distribution must include this note and the author's
email address. Don’t be caught attempting to make a buck off me!

Warnings and disclaimers:

This is adult entertainment!  Be warned!  If you’re not into graphic
depictions of sex, this is the wrong story for you!  If you’re too young to
be legally reading this, move along!

This is a work of fiction.  It is not intended to reflect any particular
person or persons, and the incidents portrayed exist in their current form
solely in the writer’s imagination.  You get the idea.


Chapter 33
All About Stella

	Four forty-five came 'WAY too damned early; Ed woke to a loud
yammering.  "What the fuck!  Where is that goddamned thing?"  He reached out
blindly, but couldn't find it with his hand -- but there was a lamp there...
Funny, his night table was on the other side...

	The light flared just as a plaintive voice whined, "Ah cain't reach
it wit' yo' on toppa me..."  Startled, Ed found himself looking into Big
Velma's soft brown eyes...  Recovering himself, he snatched the noisy alarm
clock off the night table, "Kill it!"  Into the sudden silence, he muttered,
"Damn, it ain't even five yet!"

	"Ah gots folk ta feed..."

	"Not for a while, you don't!"

	Well, that was true.  But Velma had her pattern, which included a
little masturbation, and a nice long shower, afterward...  This morning,
well, she could pass on the masturbation -- but the shower was going to be
necessary to work the soreness out of some muscles that hadn't seen that
kind of use before -- and besides, she was lying in a puddle...  "Ah gotta
clean up afore Ah goes ta work -- bein' some big bastid done raped me..."

	"I didn't rape your big black ass -- can't rape the willing!  I've
probably got finger marks where a certain hippo grabbed my damned arm!
Besides, I was drunk!"

	"Yo' wasn't no drunk!"

	"That's my story, and I'm stickin' with it!"

	"An' Ah was raped!  Dat's MY story, an' Ah'm stickin' wit' IT, too!"
Velma's eyes were dancing.

	Time to move -- bitch was gonna kiss him in a minute, if he didn't.
Ed got an evil grin on his face and rose straight up, taking the sheet --
and baring the big black woman to his gaze...  Sheeit!  Bitch was HUGE!
Funny how that wasn't as important once you'd stuck your dick in it a couple
of times, though...

	Velma was ranting and raving and trying to cover up fourteen square
feet of skin with two square feet of hand, scrunching up and babbling.
"Shut the fuck up, woman -- I sucked them titties last night and I laid all
over the rest of that shit!  The least you can do is let me look at it!"

	"You know Ah'm fat, an' Ah know Ah'm fat..."

	"So what's the problem?"

	"Ya don' havta embarrass da fook outta me wit' it!"

	Shit.  Now he WANTED to kiss her!  Time to get out of here....
"Awright, awright!  Jeez!  You gotta show a man what you look like,
eventually!"  He backed off the bed while she scrambled for coverage,
hunting on the floor for his discarded jeans and shorts.

	The realization that he was about to leave turned on the brave
front: "You ol' bastid!  Rapist!  Ah'm ruined!  Defiled!  Yo' git yo' sorry
ass outta here!  An' don' come back!"  Velma sat there in bed with her sheet
pulled up over her ponderous breasts and pretended that she'd been taken
advantage of -- because she KNEW if she made ANY move to keep him, Ed would
be gone forever.  As it was, Ed backed out of the room, grinning, his shoes
in his hand, listening to all that manufactured outrage and knowing it for
what it was...  After the door clicked shut and Ed set off down the hall,
grinning, the tears started, despite the smile on her face, "Yo' big
beautiful fookin' bastid..."

                         --------------------

	When Inez staggered in at six, blinking the sleep from her eyes,
Velma was humming to herself as she made biscuits.  "Dat boy Nate, he lahks
biscuits.  Why don' yo' make somea dem tortilla things fo' da Boss, Honey?"

	Inez watched Velma waddle across the kitchen, her gait reminiscent
of her own after Master rode her AGAIN in his bed last night.  If she didn't
know any better...

	Bianca, Nate, and Nora arrived almost simultaneously at six-thirty;
the younger set had decided that aside from dinner, the dining room was a
waste of time.  Ed staggered in about six forty-five, looking extremely
self-satisfied; Phillippe, Pete, and Jorge wandered in over the next few
minutes.  Ed made no move or statement that might have alluded to the
activity of the previous night, but he was grinning like a Cheshire cat;
Velma took it for a bit, then lumbered over to him and reached in her apron
and tossed something at him.  Ed found himself looking at a pair of wadded
socks; Velma murmured, "Ah foun' dem..." and turned away, apparently
unconcerned...

	There wasn't an eye in the place that wasn't drawn to the action.
The guys just didn't get it, the primary response being a mild question from
Pete, "How'd she know they were yours?"  None of them put two and two
together -- Velma was unfuckable.  But Inez took one look and her eyes got
round; she glanced at Bianca, and HER eyes got round and swung to Velma,
whose stance told her everything she needed to know...

	"Velma?" Bianca asked timidly.

	Velma shook her head fractionally -- not now!  "What, Honey?"

	Bianca thought fast, "Uh, do we have any bananas?"

	"Shoah," Velma replied.  "C'mere, Ah'll show ya where dey are..."
She headed for the pantry.

	Even Nora knew something was up by the way Bianca stumbled up to
follow -- everyone female did, anyway.  Inez merely watched, wide-eyed as
her daughter followed the cook into the pantry.  "Dey raht dere," Velma
announced loudly as the door closed.

	Bianca whirled on the big woman and hissed, "You and Ed?"  Velma
nodded gravely, and Bianca giggled, "How was it?"

	"It was good, Honey.  It was VERY good.  Ah dunno how Ah's goin' do
wit'out it, now..."  Velma sighed, "We cain't talk, now -- mebbe later..."

	The pair exited the pantry, but it took Bianca a moment to cover her
look of absolute glee.  Inez, who was watching, picked it up, and her eyes
popped.  The flick of a glance between them, Inez's eyes flicking from Velma
to Ed and Bianca's nod told Nora what had happened as clearly as if it had
been printed on a billboard.  Suddenly, every female eye in the place was on
Ed, who was watching for something similar, anyway, after the socks.
"What?" he grunted, his tone guarded.  "They're just socks..."  Grabbing his
coffee cup, he got out of there.  At least three women were moved to titter,
while the remaining males -- Nate included -- worried at what was so
exciting about a pair of dirty socks?

	Things glossed over about ten seconds later, when Sharon staggered
in, barefoot in a thin robe, rubbing sleep from her eyes.  "Armand wants
coffee," she mumbled, "And those flat thi -- oh, good!"  Her eyes swept over
Inez removing a tortilla from the griddle.  "And what the Hell is chorizo?"

	"Mom?" Nora regarded her mother, eyes wide.

	"Does it show?" Sharon replied, looking back.  Ten minutes before,
Sharon had flashed back almost two decades, waking to a swat on the rump and
a grunt of, "Go get my breakfast, Bitch!"  Armand had basically put a foot
on her ass then and pushed her out of his bed; she'd gotten re-oriented
while she got her feet under her, remembering a long, happy missionary-style
pounding from Armand that eclipsed anything she'd had in a LOOOONG time...

	Nora's eyes lidded.  "Yeah, it shows."  She turned a grin on Nate,
who grinned back.  EVERYBODY got it.

	Sharon turned red.  "You'd better give me that coffee, or he's
likely to find a flogger.  I'm sure he's probably decided he was too soft on
me..."  Velma chuckled and set her up with the Boss' needs, then returned to
her other work as Sharon padded out, waddling a bit for what was obviously
the same reason that apparently three-quarters of the other women in the
house were...

	Nate couldn't complain.  Nora had gone to some lengths to remind him
why he needn't look elsewhere -- like he had any urge to!  The episode with
Stella had been more or less accidental; if he'd had any inkling that he was
going to end up in trouble from it, it would have never happened.  Nora
asked him to talk dirty to her, and he tried -- but it was HARD!  There was
a whole list of names his throat closed on when he tried to call her them.
Bitch, slut, cunt, whore, twat...  They wouldn't come out of his mouth!  He
settled for telling her things HE was going to do to her, someday -- fuck
her ass, make her fat with babies, drink milk from her titties, pound her
with his cock until she passed out from joy...  There was nothing in there
like the crap he told Stella; in the first place, he wasn't sharing Nora,
period!  When it was over, Nora eyed him sidelong and asked, "Nate, Honey,
why didn't you call me dirty names?"

	" 'Cause you ain't into it, an' it ain't how I think of ya," he
replied evenly.

	"Why didn't you talk about putting me out naked for others?" she
prodded.

	" 'Cause it's NOT FUCKING GONNA HAPPEN!" he roared.

	"Oh, okay," she replied lightly, with a Mona Lisa smile, then
proceeded to vacuum a second load out of his cock with her mouth.  Nate
pulled her ass around and drank pussy juice until they both were sated, and
they went to sleep cuddled.  The way things were going, when he had to move
out of here, he was gonna be miserable...  Nate nodded at Nora and the pair
rose from the table and headed for school without a word being uttered.

                         --------------------

	Thursday morning was the worst morning of Darla Jean Nevins' young
life!  It seemed as if the events of the night before -- Ted's version,
naturally -- were all over school by nine o'clock!  Claudette Pinkersley had
declaimed to all and sundry that she was a complete slut before lunchtime
and she was unable to hold her head up.  The one bright spot in the entire
mess was the rumor that Dwayne had publicly taken issue with Ted's tale in
gym class, leaving some of the boys, at least, confused as to what Darla
Jean's actual status might be -- but the whole thing was somewhat undercut
by the admission under pressure that, yes, they HAD had sex...  Lunch time
came, and Darla Jean discovered that she might possess six friends in the
whole world -- two of them named Mary -- but they ALL wanted to know what
had really happened!

	Mary Eikenberry descended on her first.  "Welcome to the Slut
Patrol," she murmured, smiling crookedly.  "So what REALLY happened?"

	"Well, Dwayne and I were... you know... and Ted shows up...
Basically, we weren't in a position to do a whole lot..."

	"Why didn't Dwayne do anything?"

	"You're kidding, right?" Darla Jean replied.  "In the first place,
we were, uhh, close, you know?  In the second, well, Dwayne isn't up to
taking Ted out..."

	"That's what it would take?"

	"You don't deal with Ted much, do you?  He's just a little bit
extreme...  Asking him to leave merely got a grin from him."

	"Uh huh," Mary replied, sidelong.  "So, okay, what did he do, then?"

	"Well, he, uhh, stuck his cock down my throat..."  Mary tilted her
head and her eyes popped, but another voice behind Darla Jean said, "Ummm,
that's different..."

	"Yikes!"  Darla Jean jumped a foot!  Behind her, grinning, stood
Mary Nally.  And behind HER stood Nora, Amy Kelleher, and Thelma Franken!
"Oh, shit!"

	"This is my fault," Mary Nally sighed.  "I conspired to create a
monster..."

	"WE conspired!" Amy insisted, "I was in on it, too!  And Thelma
helped!"

	"I did?" Thelma looked bemused.

	"Well, I didn't!" Nora complained.  "Will SOMEBODY tell me what's
going on?  Darla Jean?"

	"I have NO IDEA what THEY'RE talking about, but my life is ruined!"
Darla Jean replied.

	"Because Ted stuck his dick down your throat?"  Mary Nally rolled
her eyes.  "Okay, show of hands -- who here has sucked a cock..."  It was
unanimous.  Darla Jean's eyebrows went up.  Mary grinned.  "What else?"

	"Ummm, two guys at one time?"

	Mary frowned.  "Well, that's a shorter list, I bet.  But I'm on it.
In fact, Hon, that's what I was doing last weekend while you and Randall
were playing hide the telescope..."

	"You were?" Darla Jean was aghast.

	"Yeah."  Mary had the grace to color.  "It wasn't the first time,
and it wasn't the last.  The, uh, rumors about me and Teddy and Stick
Williams are true, mostly..."  She shrugged.  "Next!"

	"Well, that's probably the bulk of it," Darla Jean sighed, "except
for the fact that he was a total bastard about it.  This blow-job..."

	"Can I butt in, too?"  Peggy's head appeared in the back.

	Darla Jean rubbed her forehead.  "Anyone got a loudspeaker?"

	"Ted does," Mary Eikenberry offered.  Everyone cracked up.

	"Okay," Darla Jean sighed.  "Fact is, Ted showed up while we were
VERY busy, and he wouldn't leave.  He wouldn't even be nice.  He just
basically took over, and neither of us was in any position to do much about
it.  The blowjob?  It wasn't one, in MY book.  He dragged me to the end of
the bench so my head hung over, and just started ramming it down my
throat..."

	"EWWWWW!" Thelma exclaimed.  "Nasty!"

	"That's our Mr. Phipps," Mary Nally opined.  "Did he cum?"

	"No.  Dwayne... finished first."

	"And did you, Hon?  With Dwayne?"

	"Yeah.  I made it -- no thanks to Ted!"

	Since Mary Nally had taken over the interrogation, everybody else
hung back and let her work.  Eyeing her manicure, she said, "Ted says he
fucked you, and that you put the rubber on him..."

	"Well, yeah..." Darla Jean replied, defensively.  "It was that or go
bareback!  Would YOU want to carry his bastards?  He made it clear that we
were gonna fuck, anyway..."

	"You know how he makes it sound," Mary replied.

	"Yeah.  He dreamed it up on the spot, and had a gay old time telling
me how he was going to present it -- but what could I do?"  Darla Jean
rubbed her face.

	"Stop that, you're ruining your makeup," Mary admonished.  "He says
you came -- twice!"

	Darla Jean hung her head.  "True.  He's a bastard, but I like it
fast and furious -- and he was good that way..."  She couldn't look up, but
Mary Eikenberry rubbed her shoulders.  Amy piped up, "It's true -- I thought
she and Randall were gonna cause a cave in...  Oops!"

	Mary Nally chuckled.  "Well, it wasn't THAT big a secret, although
Randall managed to BASICALLY keep it under his hat.  Dwayne might have, too,
given a choice..."

	"I think so," Darla Jean agreed.

	"Okay," Mary prompted, "what DIDN'T Dear Ted tell the world?"

	"I dunno if I ought to go on -- it probably won't help my case..."
Darla Jean hedged.

	"Confession is good for the soul -- Hell, we're your fan club,
Hon..."

	"Well, he got me going again, and then he pulled out and ripped off
the rubber, and he shot it all over me -- and Dwayne, too.  Dwayne took that
pretty hard..."

	"That's pretty sorry," Mary agreed.  "So he left you hanging?"

	"Yeah, he went off, laughing.  But Dwayne came back and... finished
me..." Darla Jean was hanging her head again.  "Then he helped me clean
up..."

	"So, lemme get this straight," Mary recapped, "Ted's a bastard, but
Dwayne's pretty decent?"

	"Uh huh," Darla Jean agreed.  "He's not my type, but he's okay.
Gentle.  Pretty good, if you like it slow and easy.  He'll probably get
better, too -- I think he was afraid he'd hurt me..."  She shook her head.
"And he DIDN'T treat me like garbage, afterward!"

	"Well, girls," Mary Nally looked around, "it's time for the
counterattack.  The word needs to go out that Ted is a user and an abuser,
and he twists the truth.  We don't want anyone ELSE being taken in!  Honey,
you've got a little bit of nympho in you, but I do, too..."

	"Me, too," Mary Eikenberry swore.

	"I can't get enough," blushed Thelma.

	"Me, too!" Nora added.

	"... So I wouldn't get too upset about it," Mary finished.  "We'll
just have to find you a new man.  By the way -- what was wrong with
Randall?"

	"Nothing," Darla Jean whispered, "Absolutely nothing."

                         --------------------

	Nonetheless, the afternoon sucked for Darla Jean.  She was
approached by several male 'volunteers' -- guys who wanted to take advantage
of Darla Jean's apparent interest in cock.  Some of them were pretty graphic
about it, especially the REAL losers what had nothing to lose by doing it.
Randall, standing down the hall, took in one of these episodes at a
distance.  "That sucks," he commented.  "I feel responsible."

	"Not your fault, Man," Jimmy Hightower replied.  "The girls say she
was as ready as you were.  As for last night, Amy says Darla Jean's story is
a good bit different than Ted's.  It wasn't consensual, at least where Ted
was concerned.  Darla Jean and Dwayne were at it, and Darla Jean admits that
wasn't the smartest thing -- but Ted just horned in and wouldn't leave,
blackmailing and browbeating them both until they let it happen.  Then he
treated Darla Jean like shit and left Dwayne to clean up the mess.  Toby
says Dwayne's version matches Darla Jean's."

	"This shit isn't all it's cracked up to be," Randall grunted.
Louise Bryant had been appearing at odd intervals all day -- and she just
did nothing for him.

	"Well," chuckled Jimmy, who'd noticed, too, "if you're not going to
be the senior class stud, you need to take yourself out of circulation."

	"Assuming I'd want to, how the Hell would I do that?" Randall
groused.

	"Duh!"  Jimmy rolled his eyes.  "Get a girlfriend!"

	Randall scratched his head -- not easy with his hair.  "I think we
need to do another Astronomy Club meeting.  An inside thing, maybe?  Image
analysis?  And try to get EVERYBODY..."

	"Kewl.  My place?  I'll put out the word..."  Jimmy moved off.

                         --------------------

	That morning, the "three Cucumbers" picture went out on the street,
in eight-by-ten color glossy, with the caption, "This is what Rodday calls
'protection'."  Paul Matheson had a long talk with Tabitha, and they checked
her out of the hospital around noon and set her up with a room in
Witherspoon's main safe house on the east side.  Based on an idea Tabitha
had in the car, a second photo was taken of Tabitha, proudly displaying her
nipple studs and her tongue piercing (by going naked and unbandaged above
the waist and sticking out her tongue), and throwing the finger at the
camera.  The implications were obvious...  Her IV pole was carefully hidden,
to maximize the effect.

	When the photo shoot was over, Tabitha sidled up to Matheson, "Paul?
When you gonna ask me for a little?"

	Matheson looked flustered, something odd in a big guy with a brush
cut and a moustache, "You don't owe me anything."

	"Okay, I don't owe you anything," Tabitha agreed nonchalantly.  "So
when you gonna ask for a little?"  She ran a finger along his jaw line.

	Paul eyed the black woman.  At the moment, she was fairly poorly
displayed -- skinny, somewhat wasted, her saggy tits displaying their wounds
(although they'd been minimized for the photo with makeup and other tricks).
Still, the woman displayed a certain raw power, some of it sexual, and some
of it just iron will...  "When you've filled out a bit.  Didn't the doctor
say you needed to be down for a month?"

	"Honey, I ain't gonna last no month without a dick!  Ya forget when
you're workin' it all the time that there's an itch ta be scratched in there
-- it won't wait no month..."

	Paul pulled a face.  "Then I guess you'd better put on some weight,
then, huh?  You look like a bundle of sticks, and I've got a lot of stuff
stored up and might get rowdy..."

	"Oh, really?  You gotta lotta stuff stored up?"  Tabitha stepped in
close and rubbed his crotch.  "Mebbe we should see if this tongue thing,"
she stuck out her tongue and displayed the stud, "does anything for ya..."

	"Tabitha!" Paul grabbed the offending wrist.  "Behave yourself!
Your tongue isn't healed, either -- I don't need to be pouring spunk over
it!"

	"Oh, c'mere, ya big pussy!  We can at least try it out with a coupla
things..."  Tabitha pulled him down and started working his neck with her
lips.  Surprise pinned him for a moment, and pleasure for another -- and the
battle was over.  Paul carefully wrapped his arms around Tabitha's bare
back.  Tabitha backed off enough to regard him with heavy-lidded eyes and
husked, "We could try a little kissin'..."

	For such a skinny woman, Tabitha had plush lips.  Paul found that he
didn't have any problem with tongue-wrestling her -- but from his
perspective, the stud got in the way.  She winced a couple of times in the
next thirty seconds, and Paul hunted some for blood, but didn't positively
identify any.  When she pulled back, she murmured, "That wasn't bad; I could
probably give head, if I was careful -- but maybe you're right.  Dammit, I'm
awful itchy..."

	"You're healing."  Somehow, Paul hadn't let go.  Tabitha didn't meet
his concept of the ideal woman, but she brought some strange things to the
table...  He found himself rubbing her thin back.

	Tabitha purred, "I'll give ya forty-five minutes to stop that..."

	Paul smiled in spite of himself.  "How are the breasts?"

	Tabitha stepped back.  "They're tits.  Or jugs -- or mebbe udders,
in my case.  They hurt some.  Check one out fer yourself..."  Her eyes dared
him to touch her.

	"Crazy bitch," Paul murmured quietly, reaching out to cradle
Tabitha's left breast.  He pretended to be clinical about the examination,
but spent most of the time wondering why the soft flesh aroused him --
certainly, it wasn't the most attractive one he'd ever seen -- or even
handled.  "How's the nail thing?"

	"It's gonna be a little while..." Tabitha admitted.

	"And the piercings?  I like to play with nipples..."

	"You want I should take 'em out?"

	Paul blinked.  "Why would you do that for me?"

	"You ain't caught on, yet, have ya, ya silly bastard?  I LIKE ya!
Ya make me horny ta look at ya.  Sumpthin...  I cain't put a finger on
it..."

	"Oh."  Surprise made him poker-faced.  "THAT's new..."

	"Kinda bass-ackwards, ain't it?  Bein' chased..."

	"Yeah."  Paul pondered a minute.  This had to be weird...  "Look,
we've got no future.  Drugs..."

	Tabitha waved it away.  "I'm halfway ta clean already.  But I need
sumpthin' ta look forward to..."

	"Hey, no guilt trips," Paul rolled his eyes.  "What about when you
go back to work?"

	"I dunno."  Tabitha shrugged.  "You gotta thing 'bout hookers?"

	"Not as a customer."  Paul scratched his head.  "I couldn't afford
to.  As a boyfriend, well, I'm not a pimp...  How much do work and play get
mixed up?"

	Tabitha sucked her teeth.  "I didn't play much," she admitted.
"Work kinda took the fun outta it."  She eyed him slyly, "Mebbe you'd take
me away from alla this?"

	"One crazy idea after another..." Paul chuckled.  Still, there was
something going on underneath all of this...

	"I go wit' the flow," Tabitha mumbled.  "Seems like the flow is
goin' a different direction this week..."

	"I guess.  Still, it's the best offer I've had in a long time..."

	"You don' wanna look a gift whore in the mouth!"  Tabitha stuck out
her tongue.  Paul laughed, and she stepped in close, "C'mere, Baby."  Paul
wrapped his arms around her, and she whispered in his ear, "Are folk
listenin' ta this?"

	"Yeah."  Paul found himself surprised.  "There is monitoring," he
whispered.

	"Baby, you don' hafta buy the whole pig.  I gotta itchy clit, an' I
ain't used ta doin' myself.  Why don' you come by tonight an' get em' ta
turn off alla that crap, and we can find some way an' ol' broken-down whore
can have fun?"

	"Is that all there is to it?"

	"Fer now..."

	"Let me see what I can do."  Paul turned his head and deliberately
stuck his tongue in the black woman's ear.

	"Eeek!" she shrieked, jumping back.  "You silly bastard!  Now my
nipples is all hard!"  She covered one, and waved a finger with her other
hand, "I ain't mad, but I'll get even!"

	"Trying to give me a hard-on isn't bad enough?" Paul laughed.

	"Huh!"  Tabitha twitched her head, nose in the air.  "That's only a
start!"  She turned and grabbed up a towel, "Guess it's time to pack this
shit back up."  She covered her breasts.  "You wanna send in whoever is
gonna put me back in bandages?"

	"Sure."  Grinning, Paul backed out of the room.

	Scott met him in the hallway.  "What was THAT all about?" he asked,
grinning.

	Paul shrugged.  "You undoubtedly heard what I heard..."

	"So, she wants your pasty-white bod?"

	"So she says..."

	"And the whisper?"

	"Caught that, did you?"  Paul grinned.  "She wants me to come back
tonight and diddle her -- preferably without a lot of surveillance."

	"Maybe she just wants to bust out."

	"Why go to all that trouble?  She could just ask Mr. Wilson.  No,
there is something else."  Paul pondered a moment.  "She's been standing on
her own two feet for a long time -- but maybe this thing made her have
second thoughts..."

	"Can't be YOUR looks -- that's for DAMNED sure!" Scott chuckled.

	"You're just jealous," Paul replied.  "But it is interesting that
she didn't pick you or one of the other black guys to snuggle up to.  I'm a
lot of things, but black isn't one of them -- no offense..."

	"Yeah.  Odd..."  Scott waved the thing off as a source of offense --
he and Matheson had worked together a while, and he knew Paul was merely
airing an interesting datum.  "Maybe you DO trip her trigger..."

	"Can't imagine why..."

	"What about her?  You were pretty busy ducking, in there..."

	"Well, she wouldn't make my top ten list if I met her on the street,
but she's got something...  She's kind of wide open.  And I don't exactly
get, 'Hey, wanna fuck?' daily..."

	"She's something else," Scott agreed.

	"Back where I come from, they'd say she's got moxie.  She takes no
prisoners, and wants it straight.  I dunno -- it's attractive..."

	"How was the liplock?"

	"Very nice, actually.  She knows her tools, too -- got me charged up
a couple of times with obvious stuff, and then slipped in a couple of sneaky
things."

	Scott eyed him.  "You know, hookers very seldom kiss -- not street
hookers, anyway.  And Mr. Wilson had her tested for everything under the
sun..."

	"What're you saying?"

	"Why don't you dip her?"

	"It's unprofessional."

	"You're not a cop.  And she's asking..."

	"And if I start something stupid?"

	"She'll know before you do, Man.  You said it yourself -- she's been
around the block."  Scott clapped him on the shoulder.  "I'll tell Chase.
You do what you want -- but don't worry about eavesdropping.  Drag her out
to room three -- it's not monitored, anyway."

	Matheson just waved his hands and hit the door.

                         --------------------

	About one p.m., Velma, after serious thought, put in an appearance
in Sharon’s office.  "Miz Sharon, yo’ gotta minute?"

	"Sure," Sharon replied, "What’s up?"

	"Ah need ta go ta the doctor," Velma announced diffidently.  "Mistah
Jason used ta make the arrangements...  Now I figger yo’ will.  Better dat
way anyways -- less embarrasin’."

	"Uh, okay."  Sharon was in the dark.  "What doctor?  What’s the
problem?"

	"Uhhh, Doc Beckman, Ah think.  Da cooze doctor," Velma related
diffidently.  "Ah let mah pills go awhile back, an’, uh, mebbe Ah need
‘em..."  She stood there, wringing her hands.

	Sharon thought about it.  Beckman was a gynecologist; she used him,
and Nora had recently, also, so it was no surprise that Armand’s staff did,
too, since Armand had arranged it.  Still, Velma?  "How long has it been?"

	"Coupla years."

	"Okay," Sharon mused.  "Is it urgent?"

	"Uh, mebbe.  Ah dunno..."

      Being black didn’t seem to save Velma from blushing.  Putting two and
two together, Sharon decided that either Velma had suddenly been sexually
active and was looking forward to a rematch, or someone had made a serious
offer.  "Do you think you might need anything else?"  Sharon asked
carefully.

      "Ah might."  Velma appeared to nearly strangle on the admission.

      "Um."  Sharon picked up the phone and called Jason.  "Jason, I need to
schedule an appointment with Dr. Beckman - fairly urgently, apparently."

      Jason, in his office downtown, blinked.  "For yourself?"

      "No, for Velma, actually..."

      "Velma?"  Jason was somewhat taken aback.

      "Velma," Sharon confirmed.  "Am I correct in assuming that we have a
handle on him?  I know that he doesn’t respond to me as quickly as he does
to Armand..."

      Jason showed his teeth in his characteristic rictus.  "You would be
correct.  Does Velma require a morning after aid?"

      "I think so.  The answers I’m getting out of her would indicate that."

      "I’ll make the call.  Later, we’ll discuss the good doctor so that you
have the proper tools to deal with him," Jason chuckled.  "I’ll try to get
Inez in, too, for that paternity test -- not that I disbelieve her, but she
needs to know I’ll follow through.  I’ll call back in a few minutes."

      "Thank you," Sharon replied, and hung up.  Turning her attention to
Velma, she informed her, "Jason will call back in a bit.  Do you want to
wait, or..."

      "Ah need ta clean up lunch," Velma replied uneasily.

      "I’ll stop by, then."

      "Thank ya."  Velma made to back out of the room.

      "Velma?  Is there likely to be a problem?" Sharon asked.

      "Ah hope not.  Ain’t been yet..." Velma replied diffidently, and
turned away.


      Jason entered Armand’s office unannounced.  "Velma has asked to see
Dr. Beckman.  Apparently it’s urgent..."

      "Oh?"  Armand looked up and smiled.  "I’ll have to check the internal
surveillance data.  All things being equal, though, it probably means that
Ed took something I said to him the other day seriously."

      "I knew that Ed was getting less than he likes - but Velma?" Jason
shook his head.

      "Well, I recently discovered while keeping an eye on Bianca that Velma
isn’t asexual, either," Armand chuckled.  "Which reminds me -- Bianca has a
long-running crush on Pete that might germinate into a relationship."

      "Oh?" Jason mused.  "Well, she could do worse.  You, uh, had Velma..."

      "There was nothing romantic about it," Armand replied.  "I penetrated
her a few times to bring home to her the conditions of her employment.
Neither of us orgasmed, although she did prove responsive.  I would imagine
that big women need love, too."  He shrugged.  "Inez isn’t tiny."  Jason
shrugged back.  "Push Beckman.  He owes me for flapping his big mouth to
Nora.  Besides, I suspect that they’re already started; if we don’t get a
lock on things quickly, there will be more surprise offspring running around
here."

      "Sir."  Jason grinned and backed out of the office.  Ten minutes
later, he was on the phone to Sharon.  "Three o’clock.  Have Phillippe take
them in the Mercedes in case we need the limo."

      "Okay," Sharon replied.  "Inez, too, then?"

      	"Yes."  Jason appeared self-satisfied.  "I shattered Beckman’s
afternoon appointment schedule.  Velma first, then Inez.  Velma needs a
thorough workup, too -- she hasn’t been making regular appointments for some
time."

      "At a guess, she probably figured she didn’t need to," Sharon
chuckled.

      "I recommend that you impress upon her that she needs to do what is
proper to maintain her health -- breast exams, and such -- you know better
than I do..." Jason murmured.

      "I’ll make a point of it."

                         --------------------

	"Okay, we're outta here!" Stick announced, collecting Mary Nally's
hand at the school's front steps.  "Teddy's goin' for the car."

	"What do you want to do tonight?" Mary asked.

	"Nuthin'.  Let's jus' hang."

	"Okay, where?"

	"Not a lot of options," Stick grunted.  "My place ain't pretty --
possible, I guess, since Pop bought the tale, but it'd suck for Ted.  Teddy
-- well nobody's let Teddy's Ma know yet, right?  An' I'd jus' confuse the
fuck outta her."

	"My place, then."

	"You wanna go out?  Movie or somethin'?"

	"Can we do that?" Mary looked hopeful.  Hiding out sucked.

	"Les' lock in Ted.  I gotta buck or two..."  They trotted down the
stairs to the car.

                         --------------------

	Nora rode to work with Nate.  "You can't drive!" he'd protested.

	"I'll call for a pickup.  I need to see this Stella..."

	"Nora, she's not important!  Promise!"

	"I know that, but SHE needs to!"

	"Look, I gotta work!  Why don't you just pick me up or something?"

	"It's too late.  I've got my homework, and I'll find a way to stay
busy..."

	They argued the whole way, but they were headed there, anyway, so it
was all moot.  They were still arguing, coming up the loading dock.
DiAngelo was standing there.  "Who's that?"

	"My girlfriend," Nate replied shortly.  "Where's Roland?"

	"Awww, shit!  Stella!"

	"Wot?" The yell came from the office at the back.

	"You need ta get out here!"

	In the meantime, Roland shambled up.  Nate spun on Nora, "You behave
yourself!  I gotta work!" then turned to Roland, "Where's the truck?  We
loadin'?"

	"Down the end," Roland replied.  He eyed Nora with a raised eyebrow.
"I figger you don' wanna be hangin' out here?"

	Nate glanced at Nora.  "You figure right.  Let's go!"

	"Hey!" DiAngelo roared, "What about THIS mess?  If she starts a
war..."

	Nate speared Nora with a glance.  "I don' think it's gonna come to
that -- but if it does, she can pull her own weight."  He turned away.

	"Nate!" Nora stamped her foot.

	"Yeah?"  Nate was dangerously pissed -- this was embarrassing him no
end.

	"Give me a kiss before you run off and hide in a truck!"

	Nate flashed a glance at Roland, "I'll catch up."  Spinning, he came
and stood over Nora.  "You start somethin', I'm gonna spank you!"

	"Just kiss me!"

	"Awright."  He hung around long enough to do a good job, then waved
a finger at her before dashing off.

	Stella hove into view, railing, "Who's gonna watch the phones?" at
DiAngelo.

	"You are," DiAngelo replied, "While you entertain Junior's
girlfriend, here.  Now both a ya get offa my dock!"

	One look and Nora was done; the swarthy brunette probably topped two
hundred, easily, and while she as displaying a prodigious bust, the legs she
was displaying a lot of weren't that good, and the miniskirt she was using
to do it wouldn't make her twenty again.  Nor would the heavily applied
makeup.  The older woman was instantly nervous, "Umm Nate, right?"

	"Uh huh."

	"He didn't touch me.  He was real clear about that."  Stella figured
it would be best if she didn't mention that today she was in her hottest
outfit in an attempt to entice Nate further.

	"But what he DID do was sex, sort of, wasn't it?" Nora pressed.  "At
least, it was to you..."

	"Well," Stella admitted weakly, "it DID make it better...  How did
you find out?"

	Nora's grin would have done credit to a shark.  "He had an attack of
conscience."  The implication was clear; if things went further, he'd spill
the beans again, too...

	"If you two ain't gonna fight, get offa my dock!" DiAngelo
reiterated.

	"Let's go to the office, Honey," Stella said unctuously, turning.
Nora started to bridle, but then she realized that Stella probably called
just about every woman she met 'Honey'...  On arrival in the office, Stella
muttered, "There's coffee, and a soda machine...  Look, he never, ever
touched me, honest!"

	"I believe you," Nora replied.  "I believed HIM.  But I had to
see..."

	"...What?" Stella was mildly irritated; she was pretty sure she'd
just been insulted.

	"I had to know if there was any possibility that Nate might, you
know, be tempted in the future," Nora replied.

	"Oh..."  Nora's tone said she was certain Nate wouldn't -- and if
Nora was certain...

	Nora noted the fact that her assessment was a blow to Stella, "You
wanted more?"

	Stella shrugged and looked away.  "Well, he's young...  And he talks
REAL nasty..."  She seemed to gather herself.  "And he's black."

	"Nate says you only give the other guys blowjobs.  Is that true?"

	"Yeah."

	"Why didn't Mr. DiAngelo step in?  He seemed to want us to start
tearing at one another..." Nora queried.

	"He did, I think," Stella related.  "He told me if any of the guys'
wives showed up, it was my ass..."

	Nora started wondering if she wasn't the adult here...  "Help me
understand what this is all about."

	"It's kind of weird..."

	"I've heard weird before; I've even seen it a few times."

	"At your age?"

	"Weird begins at home, in my family," Nora grinned.

	"Okay."  Stella was dubious.  "I do what the Boss wants.  He's okay,
and he gets me there, but I got this urge for adventure.  One day, I said
something, and Boss said it might be fun to watch, but my pussy was his, so
blowjobs were it.  I agreed, and we called one of the guys in and it was
totally awesome!  I wanted to do everybody!  Boss told me he'd put up with
it, 'cause it got me hot, but if I sucked off a guy and his wife or
girlfriend found out about it, it was my problem, not his..."

	"Okay, I guess, but why?  Why him?  Why here?"  DiAngelo was pretty
unimpressive to Nora -- sort of a no-talent Danny DeVito -- surely Stella
could do better?  "What do YOU get out of this?"

	"I guess I oughta start at the beginning," Stella sighed.  "I'm
Catholic -- my folks are very devout.  Mama always told me that if I was a
good girl, sooner or later a man would notice me and I wouldn't have to be
ashamed of myself on my wedding night -- not to mention the sin involved...
Well, I was good, all through elementary school, and middle school and high
school -- and secretarial school, for that matter -- and nothing happened.
Absolutely nothing.  Mama changed her tune somewhat when I hit twenty-five,
but by then, it was basically too late -- the only men I met were the ones I
worked with -- and most of them were already married."  Stella sighed.  "A
boy in school once said I was a triple threat -- fat, ugly, AND stupid!"

	"I don't think..." Nora began.

	"You do too!" Stella stormed.  "You took one look and decided your
boyfriend was safe from me!"

	"Well," Nora replied gently, "It was mostly age..."

	"Yeah, well..." Stella wasn't mollified.  "Fact is, it's true.  I'm
not exactly an 'A' list property.  Anyway, guys were bulletproof -- Hell,
they didn't even see me -- so I got a little desperate.  It was awful until
I started reading up on sex and learned to, well, take care of myself -- but
that made it better and worse at the same time."

	"Oh?"

	"Yeah.  You know, you get a little something, and you want a lot
more..."

	"Oh.  Yeah..."

	"One day, I got up the guts and I went out on my lunch hour to one
of those stores to get a ... toy..." she blushed, "And the place was just
chock full of these wild videos!  I was amazed!  Once I started looking at
the racks, I just couldn't leave!  And then this guy sidled up to me..."
She sat there a moment, staring at the desk blotter.  "Do you know how many
times before that someone tried to pick me up?  Zero.  He was -- God, I
dunno -- forty-something?  Kinda just average...  He started taking me
around, looking at different types of videos, different acts, different
specialties -- and he started rubbing my back, and my side, and my hip...  I
went kind of nuts!  I was swimming in sex, and this guy was touching me...
My panties were soaked!  Then he says that if I wanted to see a video, they
had little booths in the back...  I was too chicken to go alone, and too
stupid NOT to go with him -- and I just HAD to see this stuff!  It didn't
occur to me that I could just rent a couple -- besides, this guy was
touching me..."  Stella's eyes were kind of glazed as she re-lived the
experience.  Nora just sat there, fascinated.  "He hadn't done much, up to
then -- a couple of quick swipes across my ass -- but I was on fire!  So we
go into a booth, and there are a couple of holes in the walls, which made me
nervous, but he said not to worry, it was no big thing -- and then he put
money in the video machine."

	Stella just sat there for a moment, obviously deep in the memory.
"There must have been fifty channels -- people doing all kinds of stuff!
All kinds of positions, gangbangs, guys on guys, gals on gals...  And I'd
never seen ANY of it before, never mind DONE any!  The guy put a dollar in
the first time, but that went quick and I was rooted, so he put in a five.
He'd change the channel, and say, 'What do you think?', and I'd say 'Wow!'
or something, then he'd do it again...  We burned the five bucks, and he put
in a twenty, then said, 'Okay, YOU push the buttons,' and I sidled up and
started doing it...  I'd been tying my hands in knots, I wanted to play with
myself so bad -- but when I started pushing buttons, HE had both hands
free..."  She looked up, "THAT's when I realized I was definitely going to
Hell!  He put his hands on my waist and put his hard cock in the crack of my
ass and I KNEW my virginity was gonna be gone before we left that little
room!  I was wearing a long pleated skirt and a high-necked, white ruffled
blouse under a jacket -- I didn't even THINK about stopping him when he
started pulling the jacket off -- it must've been two hundred degrees in
that little booth.  Next thing I knew, he was feeling my boobs through my
bra, telling me I needed to show 'em off because they were probably my best
asset.  I just pretended I didn't know what he was up to, watching people
have wild sex on the screen..."  She looked at Nora, "This is awful, isn't
it?"

	Nora smiled.  "No!  It's exciting!"

	"I probably shouldn't be dumping this on you, but you asked, and
I've almost busted a gut waiting to tell another woman..."

	"Well, keep going!  You're not done!"

	"He took the blouse off -- I actually gave him a hand at a time to
unbutton the cuffs while I pushed buttons with the other -- and then my bra,
and he had his hand on my tits...  And it was wonderful!  I got a little cum
while he squeezed my nipples!  When he sucked on my neck and told me to take
off my shoes, I didn't have any second thoughts; I was wearing sensible
flats, and I just toed out of them.  I remember the floor was sticky..."
Stella shook her head, smiling wryly.  "There was this little chair there,
but we were using it for a clothes rack; he unzipped my skirt and I just
stood there and let it drop, then stepped out of it -- and he made this big
inhale because you could smell how wet I was!"

	"I was wearing knee-highs under the skirt, and he laughed and said
that at least I'd done something right, then he tugged off my panties --
they were soaked -- and I was standing there without a stitch on!  And it
was SOOOO hot...  He started playing with my ass, sweet-talking, saying
stuff like, 'C'mon Baby, you know you want it...' and I just spread my legs
and leaned forward a bit so he could get at my pussy!  I HAD to cum -- he
knew it -- I just HAD to!  I just concentrated on the videos and pretended
that I didn't know what he was doing while he rubbed me..."

	"Then he took my hand and he put it on his cock -- and it was hot
and gnarly and hard and just the most incredible thing to feel in my hand...
That's what finally took my attention away from the screen -- I had to look
at it, feel it, play with it.  He punched the buttons and backed things up
to a video where a woman was sucking a cock, and I knew where we were headed
next -- and I was ready for it!  I got down on my knees and took him in,
watching the video with one eye to get an idea what I was supposed to be
doing, and he put his hands in my hair and moved my head around, hissing and
moaning and telling me what to do.  I quit paying attention to the video,
except peripherally -- and that's when I noticed the eyeball at the hole in
the wall!  I got this incredible rush -- I was being watched!  I took his
hips and turned him a little bit so I could see the hole in the other wall,
and someone was watching there, too!  Wow!  I had three guys paying
attention to me at once!  It was incredible!  The guy was rock hard and
pulsing, and I loved the feel of him in my mouth, but he stopped, and said
something like, 'Time for the main course,' and had me stand up again, bent
over, bracing my hands against the wall above the video screen.  That's how
I took my first cock..."

	Stella stopped to gather herself, and Nora waited, knowing the tale
wasn't over.  Stella's cheeks were flushed and she was breathing hard, just
from the memory; she had a hand in her lap, and although Nora couldn't see
it, she could see the play of muscles in her arm and knew she was crushing
her hand against her mound.  The older woman rocked a bit, eyes closed, then
glanced up apologetically, "Sorry -- I get excited easily..."

	"It's okay -- it's a really hot story!"  Nora was soaked, too, and a
little itchy -- it'd be nice to slide her hands into the waistband of her
skirt, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

	"Okay."  Stella settled herself and resumed her tale:  "I was tight
and I bled a little -- I'd had a couple of small things in there, but
nothing as thick as a cock -- and the guy asked, 'Hey, you on the rag?' and
I managed to get out that I was a virgin.  He stopped dead, maybe three-
quarters of the way in me, and says, 'You're shitting me, right?  A hot
piece like you?' and I managed to gasp out that I was kind of a late
bloomer.  But I pressed back -- I wanted it, BAD! -- and he chuckled and
went back to work.  I think it took maybe thirty seconds before I got this
mother of all cums, and I let out this wail that would have brought the cops
if it hadn't been for all the video noises of people fucking all around
us...  And he goes, 'You like that?' and I managed to babble something, and
he says, 'Let's go for two, then,' and I went back to Heaven...  And he
laughs and says, 'Somebody wants me to share,' and I discovered the OTHER
reason for those big holes in the wall!  There was this big cock sticking
through one of the holes!  The guy laughs and asks me if I want it -- and I
was over the top; I wanted EVERYTHING -- so he turned us around, and I
started playing with it -- jacking it, licking it, trying to get a good suck
on it with my face mashed against the wall..."  Stella's gaze was turned
inward; her nostrils were distended and she was red as a beet -- and that
hand was working, working...  "It started pulsing, and I misunderstood what
was happening and backed off, but it was a young guy, I think, because that
didn't stop him, and suddenly I got a face full of white goo...  Then the
guy fucking me grunted and buried himself, and I could feel him shoot,
toooooOOOOOOAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWW!!!!"  Stella's eyes rolled up and she went
straight into orgasm, gasping and quaking.

	Nora sat there, watching, hands itching, flustered -- but she kept
it all in.  In a few seconds, Stella collapsed against the seat back and
murmured, "Wow!  THAT was embarrassing..."

	"Well, you needed it," Nora managed to choke out.

	"Yeah."  Stella's voice was shaky.  "Anyway, I came when he did, but
it wasn't enough; it was like I needed to catch up for a couple of years,
right then!  The guy pulled out and I turned around -- and the eyeball at
the OTHER hole went away, and a cock stuck through, so I just went over and
started sucking.  The guy said, 'You want more, don't ya?' and I did, but I
was scared, so he said, 'I'll control things for ya,' and he let another guy
in..."  Stella rubbed her face.  "I think I fucked six or eight guys, and I
don't know how many cocks I sucked -- I just went back and forth from hole
to hole.  Boss was the last guy to fuck me; he gave me his business card and
offered me a job...  Turned out I needed one; I'd left the office for lunch
at eleven-thirty, and staggered out of that booth at three-thirty, covered
in white goo.  My knee-highs were trashed, and my skirt had dropped into the
glop on the floor and had spots on it; some guy had wiped his cock on my
blouse, so I used it myself as a face rag.  The guy who did me first took my
panties as a souvenir...  Basically, I was a mess!  The clerk on duty when I
came out was female, and wanted to know how long I'd been back there --
she'd known that SOMETHING was up, but I'd stayed in the booth, so she
hadn't known what -- I said, 'I don't know, what time is it?' and she took
pity on me and took me back to the employee restroom to clean me up a bit.
I managed to get home without killing anybody on the road and slept until
nine the next morning, which made me late for work, so I called in sick,
rolled over, and went back to sleep."  She chuckled.  "I spent the next two
days shifting back and forth between being elated and agonized -- sex was
incredible, and I knew I'd do anything to get it again, but I was gonna go
to Hell for sure.  That third day, another secretary at work called and said
don't bother to come in -- I was fired for being unreliable.  I think I just
laughed hysterically.  I was doing EVERYTHING hysterically, at that
point..."

	"That weekend, I didn't go to my regular mass -- but I think I went
to three others, when I was off and on worrying about damnation.  I
confessed, and the priest didn't know what to make of it, but he said God
would forgive me, anyway, and laid on some other crap about the grand
design; eventually, I settled down."

	"On Monday, I fished out Boss' business card and called him.  He
said to come on down, so I dressed conservatively and came to see him.  We
got down to it and he asked me why I was here, and I told him I was looking
for a job.  I remember he said, 'I can keep up my own paperwork, but HR says
I can have a secretary.  I can hire you, but it ain't worth it to me unless
you can take care of my REAL needs.'  I asked him what those were, and he
eyed me for a minute and said, 'You did a pretty good job with them last
Tuesday.  I don't need a secretary -- I need a slut.  Can you do that?' "

	"I kinda sat there, stunned, but Boss goes, 'This ain't blackmail,
or anything.  You don't work for me yet, so I'm not takin' advantage of you.
I need a little light typing and filing and a lot of wet pussy.  Typing and
filing won't even be discussed on your performance review, but the day we
stop fuckin', you need to start lookin' for work.  I'm gonna own your twat
-- I tell you when where, how, and, yeah, even who.  How's that?' "

	"I just kinda sat there, and he sat there lookin' at me.  I said,
'Is this a real job?' and he said, 'Yeah, it's a real job.  You can get
hired as a secretary anywhere, but the woman I met last Tuesday was addicted
to dick.  Ain't many jobs out there for women addicted to dick -- not jobs
that combine work and pleasure.  Hookers don't enjoy gettin' fucked -- to
them, it's all economics.  You can get all uptight and go look somewhere
else, or you can take this job, knowing what's going on up front.' "

	"Maybe I shoulda left -- but he made me hot.  The whole idea made me
hot.  He was right -- I could find another job as a secretary, one where
nobody would ever notice, me, let alone touch me.  But I didn't WANT that --
I didn't WANT to be ignored, and I didn't have any idea how I was gonna find
dick, now that I needed it.  I'd HAD his dick, and he was tellin' me that I
could have it again, regularly.  It might as well have been a marriage
proposal!  I asked him, 'Are you gonna talk nasty to me and treat me like
dirt?' -- you know, I never even knew that I cared about that, one way or
another, until I blurted out that question.  He sat and looked at me for a
minute -- trying to figure out where I was headed, I guess -- then he
shrugged and said, 'Yeah.  You'll be my bitch, slut, cunt, twat, whore --
whatever I decide to call you -- 'cause you'll be my sex slave.  If I tell
ya to take off all your clothes, crawl around on the rug and bark like a
dog, you'll do it.  If you're giving me head and one of the boys comes in,
you don't miss a stroke, even if he sticks his dick in your ass.  How's
that?' "

	"The whole thing washed over me.  My nipples got hard, and I started
running juice -- I know it's nuts, but I'd had wild fantasies driving me
nuts for days and he just plugged right into them!  I kinda croaked out,
'What else?' and he sat lookin' at me again, and said, 'You ain't properly
dressed.  I ain't hiring a librarian, I'm hiring a slut.  You need to dress
like one.  I need to see those big titties.  No pants.  No UNDERPANTS.  You
wear stockings and garters -- preferably the stuff with the black seam
running up the back -- and any time I want to plug your twat, I should only
have to lift your skirt to find it.  I'd make you go braless, but them jugs
probably need the support.  How's that?' "

	"Awful as you might think it is, the next words out of my mouth
were, 'When do I start?' and three minutes later, I was on my knees in front
of his chair in just my nylons, vacuuming his hard-on.  I've... never looked
back..."  Stella sat back and waited for Nora to denounce her.

	It didn't happen.  Nora asked, "Isn't Mr. DiAngelo married?  I'd
think you'd go looking for a guy who you didn't have to share..."

	Stella shrugged.  "Yeah, he's married to some hatchet-faced bitch
who sewed up her twat a long time ago.  Why he doesn't divorce her has a lot
to do with money, I think.  I'm kinda extreme, I think -- for most guys, I'd
be good for a couple of fucks, but not to bring home to Mama.  Those that
would keep me for longer would only do it so they could treat me worse.
Now, finally, I know how to find the kind of guy who will pay attention to
me -- but it'd only be for sex.  Boss, well, Boss owns me, but he takes care
of me -- protects me from myself.  He keeps me from going overboard, or
catching diseases, or just doing something too utterly fucking stupid, you
know?"

	"What about nights?"

	Stella sighed.  "Well, I'm here 'til eight...  lotsa times longer.
Sometimes, we 'work on the weekend', and that's nice.  But I like things to
be public; when I'm getting what I need, I can just wind down at night, and
it's not important, any more.  Boss and I would just be fighting over the TV
remote or something..."

	Nora pursed her lips.  "Are you getting enough?"

	"Wow!  You WERE paying attention!" Stella exclaimed.  "Ummmm, not
quite.  Boss takes me places like that store to find extra dick to suck, but
he's the only one fucking me.  It'd be nice to get more, but Boss says he
don't want no diseases; if he catches me fucking around, we're done."

	"What about rubbers?"

	Stella looked thoughtful.  "You know, I'll hafta ask Boss about
that.  He'll probably say 'No', though...  I think a lot of that thing is
about making sure he owns me..."  She cocked her head.  "I can't understand
why you haven't shit on me yet..."

	Nora shrugged.  "I told you I'd seen a few things.  I have a
girlfriend who has two boyfriends -- one white and one black -- and she does
them at the same time.  Heck, they have a bi thing going.  And there are two
actual sex slaves running around my house, and one more who is as good as
being one, but won't admit it.  I'm about the only 'free woman' in the
house!"  Nora stopped and grinned, "I think it's neat that things seem to be
okay for you; some people have the urge and hate themselves for it.  And I
can sympathize with your being unable to attract guys -- I have this..."
She stood up and turned around to display her oversize ass.  "Until very
recently, THIS kept ME off the playing field...  But it takes all kinds, and
Nate apparently loves the thing..."

	"Are you giving him any of that?"

	"Ass?" Nora clarified.  "Not yet.  Soon, though, I think.  I know he
wants it."

	"It's okay, done right," Stella advised, "You'd be surprised.  What
about him bein', um, black?"

	"You mean did I buy into the black superman thing?  No.  My being
white was more important to him -- for about an hour, maybe.  Now, it's a
side issue," Nora replied.

	"Mm, yeah."  Stella nodded.  "I like cock, and the color doesn't
seem to matter much.  Black DOES seem to average just a wee bit bigger --
but not as much as they'll tell you.  Oriental guys tend to be smaller --
but there are curve breakers everywhere.  I've done black guys who were
piddly, and Orientals that were huge."

	"How do you get so much experience?"

	"We go to the store and spend time in the booths.  Boss does me, and
lets me suck at the holes.  Sometimes, we let a guy in for an up close and
personal blowjob.  There are a couple of other places, too..."

	Stella got diffident, and Nora decided to leave it alone.  "I need
to do some homework -- can I grab a chunk of desk?"

	"Sure."

	When DiAngelo stuck his head in the door a few minutes later, he was
vaguely disappointed; the women seemed to be getting along fine...