Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Strange Relationships
Part: 34
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples from Second
Best and their families.
Keywords: mf MF spank

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 34
Randall's Reputation

	Nate and Roland were out making the rounds.  Roland kept his mouth
shut until they'd made their first delivery; Nate was fuming pretty heavily
without it.  But as they pulled away, Roland opened up, "Awright, inquiring
minds wanta know.  What the fuck?"

	"I got a case of diahhrea of the mouth, an' Nora had to get a look
at Stella," Nate rasped.

	"An' you couldn't keep it from happenin'?"

	"No.  I couldn't," Nate groused.  "I know it makes me look whipped,
and I'm gonna take anything she says or does out on her, but there are
limits how far I can push her."

	"Howcum?"

	"It's complicated, an' the fact that she's the best damn thing ever
happened to me is only one piece.  Some a' the rest of it you're better off
not knowin'."  'She's the big boss' daughter' didn't seem to be a good thing
to let slip...  "The good news is that if she needs an ass whuppin' I can do
it."

	"Well THAT's good, I guess," Roland allowed.

	"It'll have to do, won't it?"  Nate shook his head, disgusted.

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

	"Hey, Randall," Erin McGrath murmured.

	"Hey, Erin."  'What's she doing here?' Randall wondered.  He and
Jimmy had hung out after class, playing chess and discussing Darla Jean --
something Amy had participated in, too.  Randall felt responsible for Darla
Jean's troubles; if he hadn't pressed for an opportunity to have sex, the
elaborate set-up of the previous weekend wouldn't have occurred, and Darla
Jean would still be in the closet.  Amy, however, was of a different
opinion; she felt that they'd done Darla Jean a favor, and Darla Jean's
current problems would blow over and eventually work to her benefit by
making the shy girl more approachable.

	Jimmy was in agreement.  "Hey, Man, she needed it every bit as bad
as you did!  I wouldn't worry about it.  This thing with Ted and Dwayne kind
of confirms it!"

	"I don't know why she..." Randall began.

	"Rushed out and chased down Dwayne?" Amy tittered.  "I do.  It's the
same reason you fell in the sack with Peggy!  She was trying to get a
comparison with her first time."

	"I didn't exactly..."

	"Okay, okay, Peggy stalked YOU!  But YOU let it happen, and she'd
have never done it except for the fact that she's tight with Darla Jean and
heard good things!"  Amy argued.  "And another thing -- you're getting MORE
favorable press from Peggy!  The word's out, Man!  You're a stud!"

	Randall rolled his eyes.  "As great as that sounds, I wish we'd kept
the whole thing between ourselves."

	"You had a chance, Man," Jimmy argued.  "But you and Darla Jean got
all adult about it and decided you should play the field, rather than
hanging onto one another."

	"Well..."

	"Well, nothing, Man!  If you're with one girl and it's absolutely
great -- and don't tell me it wasn't! -- why look around?" Jimmy
remonstrated.

	"Yeah," Randall agreed.  "Hindsight is twenty-twenty.  But Darla
Jean wanted to look around, too..."

	"Well, she has," Amy simpered.  "I don't think she's found
better..."

	"She got two, pretty quickly," Randall pointed out.

	"And it was a two-for-one sale she'd have been better off missing
out on," Amy replied.  "Are you jealous because she's ahead of you?  She's a
girl -- it's a seller's market.  All SHE has to do is be receptive..."  She
grinned.  "Of course, with the reputation you're getting..."

	"Shit, Amy!" Randall had complained -- but here stood Erin.  Erin
was a known quantity -- a card-carrying member of Bang Nation.  Everybody
knew it, even though things had long-since settled down, because she'd been
one of -- if not THE -- first of Rob's conquests.  Rob hadn't developed his
current sophistication, and word had leaked quickly, leaving Erin a marked
woman.  Randall eyed her, clamping his lips on 'I thought you chased jocks,'
and settling for "What can I do for you?"

	Erin was a mixed collection of features.  Her face was somewhat
pixyish under short blonde hair, with a cute nose -- but crooked teeth and a
receding chin.  Right now, she was kind of cute, but one look said she'd get
homely as she aged.  The bust line was nothing to write home about, not that
Randall cared, particularly; in his opinion, Darla Jean had plenty, and Erin
was competitive.  But Erin managed to be bowlegged and pigeon-toed, and she
was a total airhead...  "Peggy says you're a pretty good tutor," she
announced.

	Randall found himself wondering how long she'd worked on that
particular double-entendre -- or if it was even deliberate, for that matter.
"Thanks.  Maybe I should hire myself out."

	The comeback left her dead in the water, "Uh, yeah.  Jeez, what
would you charge?"

	Randall eyed her.  "I guess it depends on the subject."

	"Um.  I was hoping I might take it out in trade..."

	By now, Randall had a pretty good grip on what was up.  "Oh?"

	"Um, yeah, like Peggy did..."  Erin blushed, solidifying things.

	Randall didn't let her off the hook.  "I didn't charge Peggy, so I
guess she didn't pay me."

	The blush got worse.  "Oh, Man..."  She turned away.

	Randall took pity on her.  "Do you really need tutoring?"

	"Well, uh, maybe..."

	"But that's not why you're here..."

	"No."

	Randall frowned.  "Maybe I paid Peggy fifty bucks to tell people I'm
a stud."

	"No, I'm not buying that."  Erin managed to get her eyes back onto
his.

	"Money well spent, then."  Randall grinned.  Erin grinned back, but
it was tentative.  This teasing...  Randall sighed.  "Let's go somewhere
neutral and talk."

	"Okay.  Gino's?"

	"All right."  Randall led the way out.

	In the parking lot, logistics raised itself as a subject.
"Together, or separate?" Erin asked.

	"Ummm, it'd be both reputation-saving and convenient if we went
separately," Randall hazarded.

	"Okay."  Erin didn't bother to hide her disappointment, but Randall
was right.  Besides, it would give her a few minutes to ponder how things
were going before things got deep.  Randall's reactions were... convincing.
He was confident, and he was acting like a guy who was getting laid often
enough to have standards.  Last week, things would probably have been
different, but then last week, Randall hadn't made the cut...  Now, SHE was
asking HIM, and he was acting fully capable of saying 'No'...

	At Gino's, the pair picked a booth that wasn't hidden, but WAS off
the beaten path.  Erin ordered a Coke, and Randall a Dr. Pepper, letting the
waitress wander off before Erin nerved herself for the next pass.  Randall
beat her to it: "Why me?"

	"I... need to know..."

	"Know what?" Randall demanded.

	"Okay."  Erin gathered herself.  "You know about Rob."  It was a
statement, not a question.  Randall nodded confirmation.  "Well, there have
been a couple of others, not as good -- I'm still kind of hung up on Rob.  I
need to know if he was really THAT good..."

	"Oh."  Randall scratched his head.  "I don't know if I'm
competition."

	"Well,"  Erin cocked her head, "this way we can both find out..."

	"I have a lot to lose, here -- and very little to gain," Randall
groused.

	"Ummm, how about this?" Erin offered.  "If it's not that good, I
promise NEVER to tell ANYBODY, male or female?"

	"How do I enforce that?"

	"I'm sure there is something nasty you could spread about me..."

	"Okay."  This sure was weird; Randall would have never believed he'd
be sitting there trying to talk a girl out of having sex with him...  "So,
are you in a hurry?"

	"Well, my Mom doesn't get home until eight..."

	That seemed to define not only when, but where, too...
"Protection?"

	"Um, rubbers?"

	"Yeah."

	"I don't have any."

	Randall thought about chiding her for pushing such things without
being fully prepared, but then he had second thoughts.  He probably needed
large ones, anyway, and she wouldn't know that.  "I have some."  He rubbed
his face.  "Now, then?"

	"Umm, yeah."

	"Okay."  Randall dropped money on the table to cover the check, and
the pair moved back out to the parking lot.  "I'll follow you."

	On the way to Erin's, Randall kept going over the situation again
and again.  What had happened?  Why was he suddenly the gold standard for
sex?  Nothing made sense...  When Erin pulled into her driveway, Randall
parked on the street next door so as to make things less obvious, then
snagged a couple of rubbers from his newly-acquired stash in the glove
compartment.  When he joined her on her front step, Erin turned, wordless,
and unlocked the door, preceding him into the house and down the hall to
what was obviously her bedroom.  Erin closed the door, leaving Randall
standing in the center of the room, wondering 'What next?'  "So, you want to
make out or something?"  This was sooo... cold?

	"Um, yeah.  Sure."  Erin came forward, close to Randall, then
murmured, "Why don't you undress me?"

	"Uh, sure."  Randall started fumbling with Erin's blouse, a
sleeveless, round-necked affair, while he added, "This is 'way too much like
going to the doctor's office.  We're going to need to get into it, or we're
doomed..."

	Erin raised her arms for Randall to lift the blouse, and spoke as
her head cleared the neck, "Yeah, I know -- but there's no need to spend a
week messing with romance when we REALLY want to know about sex.  Once I'm
naked and you're naked, I bet things will heat up."  She turned around to
allow Randall access to the clasp of her bra, and then leaned forward to let
it drop off her shoulders.  Turning back around, she licked her lips and
murmured, "If things turn out to be good, we can always backtrack some on
the romantic parts..."

	Well, the tits were as advertised, Randall reflected, not huge but
not bad.  He knelt to work the snap of Erin's hip-huggers, unzipping them,
then running into a surprising amount of trouble attempting to get them off
her ass.  'C'mon,' he thought to himself, 'it's not THAT big!'  It wasn't,
either, but the jeans were painted on, it seemed; Erin had to lend a hand.
Finally, she stepped out of them and stood there in just a pair of red
panties, which Randall made quick work of.

	"Well?"  Erin spun slowly, letting Randall take it all in, "This is
it...  What do you think?"

	Randall eyed the package.  Many things about it he already knew --
even the pair of dimples in Erin's lower back.  The legs weren't showpieces;
they were thin and bowed, and her knees were the largest parts.  On the
other hand, they weren't awful, either.  Her butt looked okay, and the patch
of fur on her mound was almost as blonde as the hair on her head.  All in
all, it wasn't Pamela Anderson, but it was more than sufficient to be
arousing.  Randall suspected that if he opened his mouth at this juncture,
he'd screw something up, so he merely smiled and nodded, presenting his
shirt cuffs so that Erin could start undressing him.  She smiled and began
getting him out of his shirt.  When she had him fully unbuttoned, she
stepped forward to push the fabric off his shoulders, smiling into his eyes
as she sensed approval.  Randall went for a short kiss, which she returned
while divesting him of his T-shirt -- until passing it over his head broke
the lip-lock.

	Erin knelt to go to work on his pants, and Randall watched, bemused,
reaching down to toy with her hair.  Erin concentrated on what she was
doing; there was a stiff cock behind that zipper, for sure, but how big it
was wasn't certain...  Peggy had more or less indicated that it was
sizeable, but how big could it be?  Rob had been a handful, but her other
two experiences had been with wiener-sized dicks -- nothing incredible...
Once his jeans were down, there was a sizeable tent in Randall's boxers,
though.  Erin pulled open the waistband and jerked them down, exposing
herself to a shock!  "Oh, my!"

	Randall glanced down, bemused.  "Something wrong?"

	"It's huge!"

	"Not really..."

	"Well, it's the biggest I'VE ever seen!  Are you sure it will fit?"

	"Uhhh..."  Erin had him, there.  Peggy had had problems.  "I've read
that any woman can adapt, and this isn't REALLY a record-breaker..."

	Erin wasn't convinced.  The thing topped Rob's -- which was sizeable
-- and almost made two of her other two conquests!  "Well, we're gonna have
to start easy, and I might need lube..."

	"No problem.  That's what foreplay is for..."  Randall pulled her to
her feet and into an embrace, starting another kiss.  Time to get things out
of the doctor's office and into the bedroom...

	Erin was all for that!  Where had Randall gotten so confident?  She
leaned in, accepting the invasion of his tongue and the hands drifting over
her bare ass.   Mmmmmmm, maybe she'd get wet this time, like with Rob?

	'Confident' wouldn't have been Randall's description of himself; he
was suffering from considerable performance anxiety.  Direct comparisons
with Rob Graham weren't something he expected to be a big winner at -- at
least, not in THIS area.  Erin was a tight-lipped kisser, whose tongue
didn't follow his back into his mouth after he made a sally into hers, but
that was okay...  Her ass felt nice in his hands and her nipples poked his
chest -- things appeared to be going fairly well...  "Let's crash on the
bed," he murmured, stepping back, "I need to get to work on that..."  'That'
was Erin's furry little beaver; Randall cupped it in his hand.

	"Oh!  Okay!"  Erin jumped a foot at the contact, but Randall seemed
to know what he was doing...  She backed onto the bed and Randall followed,
resuming the attack on her pudenda with his right hand, rubbing her labia
with three fingers while he lowered his lips to a stiff, pink nipple.
"Ooooohhhh!"  Nipple action and direct stimulation brought Erin's clit to
its fully engorged state; Randall sure seemed to know what he was doing!  So
masterful!

	Randall, however, was somewhere else entirely!  How fast do you go
when the girl seems willing to let you do anything you want?  Was he rushing
things?  Would he mess things up if he kept moving quickly?  Surely, Rob had
gone to considerable warm-up -- did he need to, too, in the face of Erin's
apparent urgency?  His fingers found the little nub of her clit, but it was
pretty dry down there, still.  Could he afford to shift things to her
opening for a bit to see if she was getting damp, or would that kill it for
her?  "How's that?"

	"Oooohhh, God!"  It was GREAT!  Erin was excited like she hadn't
been in a long time!  This was a LOT better than masturbation!

	"Well, let me know if you want anything..."  Randall went back to
the nipple he was working, slowly upping the pressure.  He began gently
chewing...

	"Oh!  Oh!  OHH!" Erin thrashed.

	"You okay?" Randall, withdrew his lips and teeth, worried.

	"Uh HUH!  Great!"  Erin grabbed his head and urged him back into
place.  The nursing and teething at her nipples was causing intense flashes
of sensation in her tender nubs that rippled outward to enhance Randall's
efforts at her clit.

	Encouraged, Randall used further abuse of Erin's nipple as cover
while he checked for moisture at her opening.  Finding a bit, he worked his
middle finger into her vagina, searching for more.  Erin was the soul of
cooperation, bending her knees and spreading her legs until they were flat
on the bed.  "Oooohhhh!  Nice!"  Her hand wanted his giant cock, but the way
he was oriented, she couldn't reach it.

	Randall worked some of Erin's juices back up her slot to ease the
friction at her clitoris, which brought an even more intense reaction.
Could he find a way to work both ends at once?  Yeah.  His thumb could ride
her clitoris while his middle finger plumbed her channel.  That worked,
although he had to pay close attention so as not to just use one point of
contact to support the other.  Good thing, too -- she seemed pretty tight...

	Erin was amazed -- where did he come up with these things?  Randall
supplied one wild sensation after another...  She lay there, motionless,
cataloguing the sensations...

	... Which bothered Randall no end!  Erin was moaning occasionally,
and making the odd exclamation, but in the main, she was just breathing
hoarsely through her nose.  How excited WAS she?  When should he move on?
Well, her vaginal opening had dilated a bit, at least...  Randall extracted
his middle finger and replaced it with his ring finger, moistening it for a
few seconds before working them both in.  Erin moaned, "Oooooohhhh..."
Well, THAT seemed okay.  Three fingers shouldn't be required; he'd give her
a couple of minutes of this and just go for it...

	TWO FINGERS!  That was SOOOO GOOD!  Erin lay there, clenching and
unclenching her fists, her face a rictus.  God!  She might even cum!  Better
hold still, so as not to joggle Randall's elbow...

	Randall raised up to check on his play partner.  From the look on
her face, either she was loving it, or she was hating it -- but which wasn't
clear...  "How does that feel?"

	"G-good!  REAL good!" Erin got out.

	Relieved, Randall asked, "Should I go on?"

	"Uh huh."

	Randall had had the foresight to fish the rubbers out of his pants
and toss them on the bed; now he snatched one and tried to figure out how he
was going to put it on while keeping her going.  "Here, open this, will ya?"

	Erin, glassy-eyed, snatched the rubber and started to work at the
cover.  Randall got up on his knees and reached across Erin to get at her
left breast, ignored until now, twisting and tugging the nipple in an effort
to keep her going while bringing his erection to her to mount the
prophylactic on.  This worked fine for Erin; the fingers weren't teeth, but
were capable of considerable pressure, and she could finally get at that
cock...

	Either Erin was clumsy, or rubbers weren't fun -- or both!  Randall
gritted his teeth and hoped he wouldn't lose his erection while Erin rolled
the damned thing on.  Darla Jean and Peggy had spoiled him; neither of them
had bothered with one, even though Darla Jean was unprotected.  Well, maybe
it would keep him from ejaculating too fast...

	Erin didn't like the change in texture -- you couldn't jack a cock
properly when it wore one.  But she wasn't on birth control, soo...  "Okay!"

	Randall slid between Erin's splayed legs and began attempting
insertion -- which wasn't easy, since Erin only got so wet.  Mildly damp was
more descriptive, and lubricated or not, a condom isn't any too slippery.
But he made headway, and inch at a time; in a bit, back out to spread
lubrication, in a bit more...  Finally, after a minute and a half or so of
abortive short-stroke activity, he was seated.

	Erin was amazed that she took it all!  She felt very full.  Thus
far, however, irritation of her membranes vied with pleasure; things weren't
any too amazing.  Maybe she should stick to little dicks?  But soon Randall
started moving with more authority, and she started loosening up; things
went from marginal to very, very good in about ten seconds!  Unfortunately,
they hung there...

	Randall set up a nice steady stroke and awaited results.  The rubber
attenuated things to the point that an immediate orgasm wasn't in the cards,
so he shifted gears, testing his control -- a little higher, a little lower,
faster, slower, long stroke, short stroke...  Fairly quickly, it became
apparent that no matter what he did, Erin was just going to lie there
breathing funny and moaning periodically.  Nothing seemed to impress her...

	Actually, Erin was thrilled to death!  Randall's cock felt
wonderful, sawing in and out of her; it provided rich sensation -- but
getting Erin to orgasm historically required several minutes' worth of
dancing fingers on her clit.  Had the insertion been easy at all, Randall
might have succeeded in the first few moments, while the penetration was new
and the clitoral stimulation he'd done before had her set up; a few good
bangs to her clit, and she might have blown.  But things hadn't gone that
way, so now Erin was happy, but nowhere near an orgasm.  Instead, she held
herself still in order to keep things coming continuously and to provide a
stable platform for Randall to try things on.

	Randall was young and energetic, but he wasn't the Energizer Bunny!
The rubber and the fight to get into Erin had attenuated things for him past
the early urge to ejaculate prematurely that he had experienced with his
previous two partners, and performance anxiety ladled atop a lengthy bout of
continuous exercise was resulting in serious frustration!  Erin's vagina had
loosened up to the point that movement was almost frictionless -- which
wasn't really a good thing -- and she just lay there, stiffening and
relaxing at intervals, but otherwise not volunteering any effort or even
advice on how to get her going.  If Rob had managed to bring her to orgasm,
he was a better man than Randall!

	Actually, Randall had exceeded Rob's capabilities at the time of his
conquest of Erin during foreplay; Erin had been one of Rob's first
conquests, and he hadn't objectively done that well with her.  Experience
had honed Rob's skills quite a bit, but at the rate he was going, Randall
would be objectively the better lover, in time.  Randall was already MUCH
better than Rob had been at the time he bedded Erin...  Erin wasn't vocal,
though, and Randall didn't know; certainly, nothing that she'd done or said
was confidence-building.  Randall tried deliberately bashing Erin's clitoris
again, something he could only keep up for about a minute or so at a time...

	Erin LOVED that!  It was great!  It was the best thing Randall did!
But she needed him to go twice as long before she could get over the top...

	Randall throttled back, exhausted, and stared failure in the face.
Erin had gotten so loose, and she just laid there like a log...  Nothing
seemed to faze her, although she'd started to get red in the face a moment
ago...  What else could he do?  She was too short to kiss, and didn't seem
to be inclined.  His position over her didn't allow for playing with her
nipples again; he could raise up, maybe, but he didn't know if he could go
on in an upright position.  Schooling himself to keep from snarling, he
asked, "How am I doing?"

	"Oh, great!" Erin effused.  "Wonderful!  I love it!"

	Was she jerking his chain?  "You don't seem to have cum..."

	"Noooo...  I never have, this way, actually..."

	"No?"  What the fuck was he doing here, then?

	"Uh uh.  I generally have to beat the Hell out of my clit..."

	Damn!  There was NO WAY he could get at her clitoris!  "Uh, maybe
you should diddle yourself, then..."

	"Oh!  That's not right, is it?"

	"Well, I read somewhere that some women just can't orgasm without
clitoral stimulation."  The look on Erin's face said, 'Am I a freak?' so he
added, "A large percentage, actually.  Why don't you try it?"

	"Well, okay," Erin eyed him dubiously.  Maybe she was a lesbian.
Did a cock feel this good to a lesbian?  It felt REALLY GOOD, a rich, full
feeling with the added layer of being helpless beneath Randall's pounding
attack.  Tentatively, she went to work on her buzzing clit.

	The little nub of flesh was already up, fully engorged, waiting for
something to abuse pleasure out of it.  In fact, it took no time at all for
Erin to discover that she was three-quarters of the way to orgasm and the
background of Randall's efforts were making it a LOT easier than usual.
Erin's usual efforts at masturbation were like playing a lone guitar;
Randall added a string ensemble in support, making for something richer,
more powerful...

	Two things happened almost immediately:  Erin pinked up again, and
her vagina tightened around Randall's cock!  "Mmmmm, yeah!  That's better,
isn't it?"  Randall started extracting pleasure from his work, as Erin's
tightened inner lining increased his stimulation.

	"Oh, boy!   OHHHH BOY!"  The constriction increased Erin's pleasure,
too, which started a feedback loop.  "Can I move my legs?"  Suddenly, she
couldn't hold still...

	"Sure..."  Randall didn't know how she'd managed to stay splayed for
so long without cramping, anyway.  Hey, was her ass moving?

	It was.  Erin was starting to show a bit of muted animation all
over.  As much as she tried to hold still, her ass clenched, and her knees
wiggled, and her pussy was gripping, relaxing, gripping, relaxing...  Her
control was shredding; the harsh buzz in her clit said a BIG one was coming
-- but that seemed to be the least of it!  Randall was generating something
that seemed to hover out there, huge; when the familiar pop went off, the
dam would break and she would drown!  Instinctively fearing inundation, she
withdrew her fingers from her clitoris.

	But it was too late; she'd have gotten there, anyway, and maybe it
would have been gentler, but Randall had sensed her excitement, and it had
triggered a matching excitement in him.  The tickle in his cock that
presaged orgasm came upon him and he started sledge hammering her pubic
mound in a last minute effort to bring her home.

	"OOOH MY GOOOOOD!"  Erin wailed.  Randall's pounding turned out to
be even better than her fingers in that moment; shock waves of pleasure
poured from her vagina and clitoris, sweeping everything before them.  Erin
wrapped her legs behind Randall's thighs, clutching him to her while her
clit detonated once, twice, three times!  Randall pulled over the top by her
reaction, jammed himself into her releasing his pent-up ejaculate.  Erin
felt the pulse against her cervix as it punched the tip of the rubber and
went away...

	Nobody was more surprised than Randall!  Once she finally got going,
her tunnel's rhythmic clasp was inescapable!  He surged and grunted, firing
the first pulse of his orgasm, and watched Erin's eyes roll up while her
body clutched and hunched and shook...

	"Erin...  Erin?  Are you okay?"

	Erin swam to consciousness to see Randall eyeing her worriedly.  She
couldn't move; her entire body was drained, lethargic.  Speech was an
effort, too, "Mmmm...  Yuh.  Uh, yes, I'm okay..."  Actually, 'okay' didn't
BEGIN to describe it, but it would do for the moment.

	Randall heaved a sigh.  He'd been afraid that Erin had had a seizure
or something when her eyes rolled up like that.  "Are you sure?"

	Erin laughed breathlessly.  "Oh, Randall, I'm wonderful!  You're
wonderful!  I CAME!  Not just a little cum, like when I diddle -- a BIG cum!
I NEVER came like that before!  You're incredible!"

	"Gee, I dunno.  I wasn't doing that well until I told you that you
should, uh, masturbate..."

	"Oh, no!" Erin disagreed, shaking her head.  "You were great from
the start!  I loved it -- I could have let you ride me all night!"

	"Well, I wouldn't have lasted much longer."  Randall grimaced.  "You
make it sound like I was accomplishing something.  I... wasn't sure."

	"You WERE!  You wiped Rob with your fingers!  I was afraid to move,
for fear I'd screw it all up..."

	"What?"  Randall was nonplussed.  "Uh, look -- it's, uh, better if
you move...  I thought I wasn't accomplishing ANYTHING!"  Randall shook his
head.  "You were kind of, uh, wooden..."

	"Oh.  Bad?"  Erin winced.

	"Yeah.  Sort of depressing.  You can, uh, loosen up, right?"

	"Yeah.  At least, I think so."  Was that why no one ever came back
for seconds?  Damn!  She glanced away, embarrassed -- and picked up the
clock.  "God!  Is it that late?"

	Randall followed her eyes.  "We were at it for quite a while..."

	"My mom will be home soon!"

	"Sounds like my cue..."  Randall backed off.

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

	The movie was a 'chick flick' -- a romantic comedy.  On the initial
pass, they decided that Mary should sit in the middle, so that she could
claim to be with either of the boys, as necessary.  But midway through the
movie, Mary went to the bathroom -- and on her return, she murmured to
Stick, "Scoot over.  This is getting ridiculous."  Stick ended up with an
arm around Mary and an arm around Teddy, and everyone else's opinion be
damned...  The three of them had a great time, kidding each other over the
foolishness going on on-screen and generally relaxing.  Burgers afterward
were similarly relaxed.  Not until the boys delivered Mary home did
seriousness intervene.  "How are we going to handle the Astronomy Club
meeting tomorrow?" she asked.  "Teddy and I need to be there..."

	"Who else?" Stick asked.

	"Jimmy Hightower, Amy Kelleher, Randall Braithewaite, Darla Jean
Nevins -- probably Danny the Wop and Thelma Franken, too."

	"Why is this important?"

	"When we needed an alibi for Teddy last weekend, Amy and I led Darla
Jean into a set-up so that Randall could take a shot at her.  Randall
feels... responsible for the shit Darla Jean got into last night with Ted
Phipps.  He wants us to tell all..."

	"Guess I can go to that," Stick allowed.  "Think they'll make us?"

	"They're the Brain Trust..." Mary replied.

	"Does it matter?"

	"No," Teddy volunteered.  "They're cool."

	"Awright," Stick grunted.  "I'm goin' then."

	"Cool."  Teddy nodded.  "See you in the morning, Mary."  He popped
up to kiss her good night.

	"Night, Hon."  Mary bussed him one.  "Night Stick."

	"Night, Baby."  Stick stepped in and got his kiss, and the boys
headed for the car.  "Think we're really gonna keep a lid on this?" he asked
Teddy.

	"It'll come out, sooner or later," Teddy replied.  "But it probably
won't matter, if it's close enough to graduation.  It really depends on who
learns about it and what they think.  My friends won't care, and they won't
talk."

	"Cool."  Stick ruffled Teddy's locks.

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

	Nate spent the whole trip back to the warehouse dreading what he'd
find there.  Roland eyed him in some amusement as he ranted and raved, but
things were quiet when they got to the dock.  DiAngelo was nowhere in sight,
so Roland asked one of the other drivers what had gone on.

	"Nuthin'.  Nuthin' at all," the guy replied.  "I think Di was
pissed; they didn't even raise their voices at one another.  Di went in to
do some work a while ago, and nobody has come out..."

	Roland and Nate shared a glance, and Roland grunted, "Let's clean up
the truck before we go see which bodies hafta be disposed of..."  Nate
rolled his eyes and went to pull down some rain gear.

	Twenty minutes later, Roland rapped on the office door.  At
DiAngelo's grunt, Roland and Nate entered to find him working at his desk,
Stella working at her small one, and Nora seated in a chair, listening to
her CD player.  " 'Bout time you got back," DiAngelo grunted.  "You wanna
get her outta here so I can take care of business?"  Stella glanced up; she
knew what THAT meant.

	Nora did, too.  She snatched of her headset and rose to kiss her
boyfriend, then turned to Stella.  "Okay, Nate can talk nasty to you, but
that's it, understand?  Unless I'm here watching, you don't get any more."

	Stella got this deer in the headlights look.  "You'd watch?"

	"I might."  Nora eyed her a moment.  "You'd like that, huh?"

	"Oh, yeah!"  Stella nodded.  "A lot!" she added, earnestly.

	Nora grinned.  "We'll see."  She turned to Nate.  "Are you ready?"

	"Yeh."  He turned and led the way out, anger and embarrassment an
aura around him.

	DiAngelo stopped him at the door, "Kid!  Saturday or Sunday?"

	Nate stood glaring at Nora.  She'd been going to get some input --
but now...  "Sunday.  Okay?"

	"Fine.  See ya then.  Noon."  DiAngelo waved his release.

	Roland waited until the door closed before chuckling.  "Well, Stella
-- he's plenty mad.  You might get some a' him after all, 'cause they might
break up over this."

	"You think?" Stella asked.  "Damn!  I think I'd rather have her
watch than suck Nate's dick..."

	Roland grunted laughter.  "You're amazin'!  If I'd a' got to ya
first, I'd have a half-dozen little half-breed kids an' I wouldn't hafta
work, 'cause you'd be peddlin' the leftovers at parties..."

	Stella laughed.  "Roland!  You say the sweetest things!  Been
learning from Nate?"

	"Awright, enough with the compliments!  Get over here and kneel up!"
DiAngelo grunted.  "All this shit tonight's made me horny!"

	"Me, too!" Stella agreed, stepping out of her skirt and crossing to
her boss.  "How do you want me?"

	"On your back.  Get up on the desk," DiAngelo replied.  "How is it
you two managed not ta rip each other's hair out?"

	"She just wanted to make sure I didn't poach -- and she wanted to
know why," Stella replied.  "I'd never told a woman why...  It was... hot."
Stella dropped her head over the edge of the desk and eyed Roland upside-
down.  "Want some throat?  I could use the extra..."

	"If I don't plug the ol' lady tonight, SHE'LL be down here tomorra
an' you WILL lose some hair!" Roland grunted.  "How 'bout I see if Lou is
around?"  Stella nodded, her face flickering to DiAngelo's penetration at
mid-nod.  Roland shook his head and stalked out.

	Nate was silent until they were in the car.  "You coulda' fucked me
up in there!" he ranted.

	"I know, Honey," Nora replied, penitent, "but I didn't..."

	"What else am I gonna hear about it?"

	"Nothing," Nora replied.  "Stella knows the rules.  I'll want to
know about it, but that's it..."

	"That AIN'T it, and you KNOW it!" Nate ranted.  "Did you see the
look on her face when you said you might watch?  She gets off on stuff like
that!"

	"Oh, I know," Nora agreed, "she told me her whole sordid history!
Your boss is lucky -- she's a classic submissive!"

	"Well, YOU'RE gonna be submissive tonight!" Nate ranted.  "I'm gonna
beat that ass..."

	"Okay."  Nora's eyes took on a gleam.  "If you don't damage it too
much, maybe you'll want to fuck it..."

	"You're trying' to distract me!" Nate admonished.

	"Yeah," Nora agreed, eyeing him sidelong.  "Is it working?"

	"No."  A second or two went by, and Nate shrugged, rolling his eyes,
"Yeh.  You're still gonna get it, though."

	"Okay."  'We'll see...'

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

	Velma sat in the kitchen, stoically riding out some mild cramping
while awaiting the kids' return.  The 'morning after' pill probably wasn't
required -- Beckman had confirmed that she was nowhere near ovulation -- but
he'd ranted and raved at her about the perils of pregnancy for a woman with
her issues with weight and a family history of high blood pressure.  Then
he'd given her a shot that was supposed to last three months; if it turned
out that she needed it, she could renew it then -- if not, she could go back
off birth control.  Velma REALLY, REALLY wanted to be a candidate for more
shots...

	The kids came in, and Velma got up and put dinner in front of them.
Miss Nora was obviously buttering young Mistah Nate up over sumpthin'; she
musta stepped in it somewheres.  Velma figured that was a good thing; the
man oughta wear the pants in the family, in her mind.  She wasn't used to
anyone really running HER life (work didn't count), but she enjoyed the way
ol' Ed argued and fought and pushed and prodded at her barriers -- it added
a lot of spice to their relationship... Which, of course begged the question
-- did they HAVE a relationship?  Ed had been quick with meals and run and
hid after; had the sock thing been too much?  It had certainly been funny at
the time...  Mebbe he was just busy -- there was a lot of hammerin' an' such
goin' on...

	There was, too.  Ed was VERY busy, extending Jason's rooms by
connecting them to the next suite.  Jason was making his life difficult by
insisting that he keep everything in his suite squeaky clean while he did
it, too, which required a ton of extra effort and inconvenience.  Inez had
stood by all day, except for a period when she left in the afternoon,
constantly dusting and cleaning, but sawdust and sheetrock was messy stuff;
Jason had bitched and bitched on his return from the office, and Ed had to
go to Inez's aid to keep her from getting the strap.  Fortunately, the pass-
thru was about done; that left some adjustments to the other suite itself to
set it up the way Jason wanted it.  There was still an open question over
whether a connecting door to the playroom was required -- but seeing some of
the changes Jason had requested for the suite itself, Ed didn't see any
reason for it.  Another oddity was the odd color that Inez, with Jason's
approval, picked for the small room just inside the pass-thru -- a happy
little pastel that Ed associated with nurseries...  Jason had requested an
intercom from the room to his bedroom, too, disconnected from the main house
system.  Odd.  Even odder, given the Boss' standing orders on such things,
the Boss had approved it when Ed braced him with the requirement.  "I don't
need to know what goes on in there," the Boss had grunted.  Weird.  Ed
covered his ass by making it easy to plug into the house system, eventually.

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

	Chase entered Tabitha's room at the safe house.  "Paul called.  Says
he's busy tonight and asked for a rain-check.  And that he'll be in
tomorrow."  He eyed the skinny black woman.  "What's up?"

	"Nuthin' apparently," Tabitha grunted irascibly.  "None a' yo' damn
business, anyways!"

	"Sorry," Chase grimaced.

	"I wish I fuckin' knew, okay?  Sumpthin' 'bout the big stupid fucker
makes me all drippy!  Ain't mutual, though," she sulked.

	"Uh, okay."  Chase discovered that he'd gotten more information than
he really wanted.  "Don't count him out just yet."  He paused a second.
"Why not Scott, or somebody..."

	"Somebody black?" Tabitha filled in.  "I dunno.  Scott..."  She
couldn't explain it, but Scott struck her as weird as feet on a fish.  Scott
was a white guy in a brother suit -- nice, in a way, she guessed, but why
not just DO the white guy?  Scott just bothered her.  Besides, it wasn't as
if she'd never taken a white dick -- Hell, she probably did more o' them
than blacks!  Bruthuhs got pushy -- wanted to own your ass for fifty lousy
bucks!  Tabitha wasn't into the casual ownership thing.  White boys tended
to understand that it was a business proposition -- a short-term rental, and
there were rules of occupancy...  "Look, it's a one-off, probly.  You ever
get tickled by sumpthin' odd -- sumpthin' you never though you'd fuck with?"

	"Yeah, now you mention it," Chase agreed.  "Cool.  Well, don't get
too upset.  Paul can be slow to come around, sometimes.  You never know."

	Paul, uncharacteristically, had lied.  He was sitting in his small
apartment, flipping channels on TV and trying to figure out why he was even
entertaining the idea of bedding a skinny, wasted-looking black woman.  But
the crazy bitch set him off...  It made no sense; she was a professional
hooker -- not even high-end -- and a druggie.  He was a professional, and
she was his client -- that was reason enough to avoid her right there.  But
she didn't care...  What the Hell did she see in him?  And why on Earth
would he seriously consider falling into bed with her?

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

	"Mom?"

	Sharon glanced up from her work, "Dear?"

	"Do you have any... K-Y jelly?" Nora asked.

	"What?"

	"I... need some K-Y jelly..."

	"Why?"

	"MOM!  Do I really have to draw you a picture?"

	"Why?"

	"I, uh, kind of stepped in it..."

	"And you're buying Nate off?"

	"Well, yeah, but we were going to do it soon, anyway..."  Nora was
positively purple.

	"I don't have any.  You could ask your father..."  Sharon's smile
would have done credit to a crocodile.

	"MOM!  Good God!"

	"Well, we can try something else..."  Sharon punched the intercom.
"Felicia?"

	"Mistress?"

	"Do you have access to any personal lubricants?"

	"Um, there might be something in the playroom.  For you?"

	"No, but I'll deliver it."  Sharon eyed Nora.

	"I'm on my way."

	Sharon turned to Nora.  "If you cherish your anonymity, you should
leave.  I'll bring it to you."  Nora nodded and stepped out.

	Moments later, the Wench appeared in the door.  "How about Glide?"

	"Is it okay for anal use?"

	"Yeah.  Not as long-lasting as some, but sometimes that's better,
anally.  You don't want to get TOO frictionless..." the Wench grinned,
tossing a small squeeze bottle to Sharon.  "Since it's not for you..."

	"The list is pretty short?"  Sharon smiled.  "Nora is apparently
offering Nate a bribe to ignore some trespass..."

	"I saw them the other night.  She wasn't going to keep THAT cherry
for long..."

	"Felicia!"

	"He's playing with her ass constantly!  She had less than a week,
anyway!  Trust me!"

	"You're kidding, right?"

	"He loves that ass!  He can't keep his hands off of it!  I've seen
them!" the Wench laughed.

	"Well, then..."  Sharon waved dismissal.

	Five minutes later, she rapped on Nora's door, then threw it open
before her daughter and her boyfriend could react.  "Here!"  She tossed the
bottle at Nora.  "Oh, and Nate -- don't let her get away with whatever she's
trying to weasel out of -- spank her first!"

	Nora caught the bottle and flashed a look at Nate -- whose eyes
carried a glint.  "You promised!"

	"I didn't have instructions from your Mama to tighten you up!"

	"Since when do you listen to Mom?"  Nora started backing across the
bed.

	"Since it's what I should be doin' in the first place!"  Nate
lurched, and Nora's wrist was caught in a vise.

	"Nate!  Noooo!"  Gawd, he was strong!  Nora found herself across
Nate's knees, AGAIN!  "No!  Not the jeans!  DON'T!"

	"Get 'em off!"

	"Nate, please!"

	"Now!"  Smack!

	"Owww!  Nate!"

	"Smack!"

	"Okay!  Okay!"  Nora started skinning out of her jeans.  "Can I
stand up?"

	Nate thought about it.  "If you're quick."

	"Can I have my arm?"

	"What am I, stupid?"

	"Nate!"

	"Get 'em off!"  The hand came up.

	"Okay, okay!"  Nora went to work, one-handed.  "Nate, Honey..."

	"Uh uh.  Don't even start!"

	"Look, you're not gonna..."

	"I'm gonna catch shit for tonight FOREVER!  We need to iron out who
is boss, here!  I love you, Baby, but damn!"  There was a jerk, and Nora was
back over his lap.

	SMACK!

	"Oww!"

	SMACK!

	"Nate!"

	SMACK!

	"Please!"

	"Please what?"

	"Uh, stop?"

	"No, that ain't it."  SMACK!

	"Oww!"

	SMACK!

	"Okay, okay!  I'm sorry!"

	"You said THAT before we started!"  SMACK!

	"Oh, Gawd!"

	SMACK!

	There was something intensely satisfying about watching Nora's ass
cheeks deform under the shock waves from the impacts.

	SMACK!

	Nora had gone silent, but was making the periodic convulsive
twitches that said she was sobbing.  Nate let her have five more -- more
because it pleased him than because she needed them -- and raised her up.
"You gonna be good?"  He got a wet face in his shoulder, but it was nodding.
"Awright."  He rubbed her back, holding her while she settled down.

	It took ten minutes before she pulled away.  "What about...?"

	"It can wait.  It's mine, ain't it?"

	"Uh huh."

	"Let's go to bed.  If it happens, it happens."

	It didn't.  They made long, slow, soft love in which orgasms were no
less intense for having only elicited a soft, emphatic grunt.

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

	"Traitor!"  Nora glared at her mother from the breakfast table as
she entered the kitchen on Friday morning...

	Sharon shrugged.  "I'm just doing my job -- making sure your father
doesn't turn you into some leather-clad dominatrix."  She got herself a cup
of coffee while Velma stood by, watching to make sure Miz Sharon got all of
her needs fulfilled.  "Were you naughty?  Did you deserve it?"

	"Maybe.  But other couples..."

	"One thing your father has taught me is that just because some
people act like lemmings, you don't have to.  I know Nate keeps things to an
area that MY mother and father felt free to use, and if it was that bad, it
would be an issue between YOU, not an issue between US.  Besides, Nate
enjoys it."  Sharon's eyes conveyed the final message in her response,
'...and you do, too!'

	"Well..."  Nora dropped her eyes; that final message was the most
damning.  Nate's spankings hurt like Hell, but she got a kind of emotional
release from them.

	Sharon's eyes swiveled to Nate.  "Nate, a reminder.  When it's
punishment, it's always over, afterward.  You don't bring it back, again and
again.  If it ISN'T over, that's not the right way to handle it."

	Nate eyed her.  Mama Wilson was growin' up -- you could see it.  She
wasn't as tentative as she used to be.  And he was clearly family...  "What
if it ain't punishment?"

	Sharon looked mildly amused.  "Then it isn't."  She glanced away.
"To have a woman in this family respond to a little recreational pain is not
unheard of..."

	"MOM!"

	"What?  I've had my nose rubbed in it!  Wake up and smell the
coffee!"

	Velma, the only witness to this exchange who was not involved
directly, turned away, thoroughly embarrassed.  Well, they were da Boss'
womenfolk...

	Sharon, having sunk her barbs, was done.  "Velma, I'll be eating in
my office.  Could you send me around half a grapefruit, a bagel, and
coffee?"

	"Yes, Miz Sharon.  Yo' shoah yo' don' want more'n dat?"  Velma's
eyes blackmailed her for the sake of the younger generation's nutrition.

	"Not today.  I like more on occasion, but not always.  I know where
it goes."  She glanced behind her at her ample fundament.  "Besides, I'm not
still a growing teen.  You two could take on a little fruit..."

	Nora rolled her eyes.  "Yes, Mom."

	Sharon shook her head and turned back toward her rooms.

	The kids cleared out quickly after that, leaving Velma alone when Ed
turned up for breakfast.  "Whatchew want fer breakfast, ya fookin' rapist
bastid?"

	Ed looked momentarily like he'd been slapped.  He'd been suffering
some from yesterday's efforts in Jason's new family apartment, on top of a
night of unaccustomed sex, and wasn't ready for a battle of wits.  But a
glance around said that this wasn't for public consumption, so he rallied.
"Waffles, ya silly black slut!  Strawberries an' whipped cream, and some
bacon!  I'm fuckin' starvin'!  Can I get cream for my coffee outta them
udders of yours?"

	"Only if'n dat load o' babymakers yo' dumped in me takes hold!"

	"Uhhh!"  Ed discovered his defenses weren't up yet.  His eyes
flashed to Velma's, but she was grinning.  Nonetheless, his unprepared
reaction hurt her -- he could see it in her eyes -- and the longer he took
to respond...  "When would we know?  Christmas?  When the water broke?"

	That was better.  Velma realized she'd punched out a low blow only
after she made the remark, but Ed's expression had hit back, hard.  The
recovery told her he was back on track...  "Ah guess y'all gonna hafta come
lissen ta mah belly evah day fo' awhile..."

	"Shit.  Be six months before a kid would make a dent in the noisy
shit goin' on in THERE!" Ed laughed.

	"Ah guess y'all'd hafta lissen HARD!"  Velma turned away to start
working on waffle batter.  "Probly not a good idea, anyways.  You'd probly
git addicted ta the smell o' mah cooze..."  She cracked an egg into the bowl
and started measuring out pancake mix from the box.  "Ah'd be shoah ta end
up carryin' yoah kids if'n DAT happened, ya rapist bastid!"

	It was the silence that told Velma that something was up.  Ed was
looking at the door, stricken.  Boris was standing in the door, surprise
writ large upon his face.  Flicking his eyes from one participant to the
other, he cleared his throat.  "This is a private conversation, no?"

	Velma rubbed her forehead, leaving a streak of flour.  "Ah guess not
any mo'..."  Embarrassed, she turned back to what she was doing.  Worse was
the fact that she'd laid a torpedo in the water designed to see if Ed WOULD
return -- and Boris had deflected it...

	Boris glanced at Ed, who shrugged, embarrassed.  Boris shrugged back
-- it was none of HIS business...  unless, perhaps, it WAS rape.  "I'll come
back."

	"No, 'sokay," Velma muttered.  "What yo' want ta eat?"

	"What are you making?"

	"Waffles an' bacon."

	"That's fine."  Boris got some coffee and settled himself gingerly
at the table.  Things were VERY quiet while Velma put the first waffle in
the cooker and started the bacon.  Boris broke the ice with a question, "So,
how are the ren--, ah, repairs going?"

	Ed took it up.  "The renovations?  Okay.  Jason's a bastard about
dust and shit, so I spend half my time with a shop vac, and Inez spends half
of hers dusting the place."  He ruminated a moment.  "I can't understand why
he's all particular about one of the spare rooms in the new area -- weird
wall colors, and a special intercom connected to his bedroom..."

	Velma pondered this while Boris murmured, "Really?"

	"Yep.  I braced the Boss on the intercom setup, an' he said
somethin' like, 'I don't wanna know what goes on in there.'  Weird thing is
it isn't a place to bust on Inez -- he's got another room laid out for
that..."

	"What color is da walls?" Velma burst out.

	"Washed-out lookin' pastel blue.  Like a..."

	"... Nursery?" Velma interjected, turning to Ed wide-eyed.

	"Oh, ho lee shit!" Ed smacked his forehead.  "That'd mean..."

	"Inez is carryin'," Velma stated positively.  "Ah KNOW Bianca ain't.
An' she went ta the doc yestiddy."  She eyed Ed significantly.  "We went
togethah..."

	Ed absorbed this.  So Velma HAD taken precautions.  Did she just
cover her ass for Wednesday night, or...

	"Dat would explain why Mistah J was so pissed at her, fo' da last
few days..."

	"Whose do you think it is?" Boris wondered aloud.

	Velma eyed the big Georgian as if he were a fool.  "It be Mistah
J's.  Ain't no question.  No way he'd keep her an' it othahwise."

	"Hmph.  I think you're right." Boris agreed.

	"Ah am.  Mistah J was serious pissed fo' a few days, but he be
settlin' down.  Ah'm guessin' dat was when he found out he was a daddy.
If'n it was Raoul's, he wouldn'ta settled down.  Inez'd be gone by now."
Velma was absolutely positive.  "Dat would explain why da Boss give her ta
Mistah J as a slave.  No way he'd a' done dat if da baby was Raoul's -- it'd
a' opened da do' fo' Mistah J ta do crazy shit.  Mistah J done leaned on her
pretty hard, but wasn't no crazy shit..."  It was a commentary on the nature
of the household that the beatings and humiliation Inez had suffered wasn't
considered 'crazy shit'.  "Don' go blabbin'.  Dere be some as knows who'll
figger somebody talked, an' dat person's shit will be in da wind."  Velma
put the first waffle down in front of Ed, along with whipped topping and
strawberries.  "Bacon be up soon.  Boris gets the nex' one."

	Boris flicked Ed a sly glance that said, 'You get premium service,
now?'  Ed blushed.  "Velma."

	"Yah."

	"Drag your lard ass over here."

	"Whuffo'?"

	"Jus' do it."

	Velma left the bacon and shuffled over, "What?"

	Ed stood and took his napkin to her face, working on the streaks of
pancake mix.  "White ain't your makeup color."  Velma suffered this
attention shakily.  "So, ain't no kids this week?"

	Velma glanced at Boris and licked her lips.  "Not fo' a while."  She
locked eyes with him.  "Ain't the way Ah'd do things."

	Ed nodded and sat.  "Goin' to burn that bacon..."

	"An' dat be MAH fault?  Wit' yo' jogglin' mah elbow, tellin' me what
ta do?"  Velma lumbered back to the stove.

	"Ain't used to that, huh?" Ed grinned, plopping whipped topping on
his waffle.

	"No, Ah ain't!  An' don' YOU git any ideas 'bout it, yo' ra-, uh,
yo' ol' bastid!"

	Conversation lapsed.  The bacon arrived with Boris' waffle moments
later, and Velma laid out the syrup, knowing Boris liked that better than
more non-traditional toppings.  Ed wolfed his portion down and stood.  "I'm
outta here," he announced, moving to the coffee pot.  "Got to go finish up
in there."

	"Ah thought yo' wanted cream fer dat?" Velma flicked a glance at
Ed's cup.

	Ed sauntered up close, laughing, "You know better!"  Leaning in, he
whispered, "I like my coffee like I like my women -- Hot and black..."

	"You!"  Shock transfixed her long enough for him to get out of
reach.  She flicked her eyes to Boris, who assumed a neutral expression --
which told her he'd heard the whisper, too.

	Boris applied himself to his waffle for a bit, but gradually he
decided that he might have a need to know, after all.  "How long has this
been going on?"

	"What?"

	"Velma..."

	"Coupla days.  Weird shit started Monday or Tuesday.  He jes' sudden
started talkin' shit, an' Ah started back...  Nex' thing Ah know..."  She
shrugged.

	"What's this about a rape?"

	Velma sighed, waved a heavy arm.  "Wasn't.  We was talkin' shit an'
Ah sorta dared him.  He come in mah room pretendin' ta be drunk -- but his
breath smelled lahk vodka, an' tha rest o' him smelled lahk da scotch bottle
he was luggin'.  Ah didn't put up much of a fight..."  She sighed.  "It's
kinda a game -- Ah swear he raped me an' he swears he was outta his head
drunk.  Truth is, both a' us needed ta fook."

	"Is there going to be trouble?"

	"Naw," Velma sighed.  "Well, only if'n he teases me an don't come
back...  If'n he don' wan no mo', dat's okay," Velma's expression said
otherwise, "but he's gonna hafta lay off da other stuff, den."

	Boris nodded.  "That's fair.  Should I speak to him?"

	"Naw.  Ya might..."

	"Stop him?"

	"Yah."  Velma managed to blush.

	"Okay."  Boris got up, filled his coffee cup, saluted her with it,
and wandered out, smiling gently.

	"Ah'm a fallen woman," Velma husked to herself.

	Bianca walked in and began quickly putting together her own
breakfast of a bagel and cream cheese; a glance at the clock said she had no
time for anything else.  "Yo' runnin' late?" Velma asked her.

	"I have to rely more on my alarm," Bianca replied.  "Mama has other
concerns."  Velma nodded, chuckling.  Bianca eyed her for a moment and
muttered, "Velma..."

	"Not right now," Velma shut it off.  "Ah've had enough true
confessions dis mornin'.  Ya'll come back an' see me later if'n yo' want da
skinny, Chile."

	"Okay."  Bianca hit the door, grinning, around her bagel.

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

	"Randall?  You don't suppose..."

	"Huh?"  Randall spun.  Erin.  Goo-goo eyed.  Uh oh.  "I, uh, think
we accomplished what we set out to do.  If you remember what you've learned,
you should be fine..."

	"Oh."  Erin was visibly depressed.  "Well, if you ever..."

	"Um, yeah."  Randall looked around.  There were at least fourteen
people watching the exchange, most of whom were female.  Ah, SHIT!  Louise
Bryant!  "You need to set your sights on something that will get you
somewhere in the long run, you know?"

	"Um, yeah."  Erin nodded.  "Got any ideas?"

	Randall rubbed his forehead.  "That's, uh, kind of up to you."
Jeez, what an airhead!  Louise was closing...  "Look, I got to go.  We can
talk later, maybe, okay?"  Erin followed his nervous glance and nodded.
Randall squeezed her shoulder, (probably not a smart move), and got out of
there.

	Nonetheless, he was getting odd looks from half of the girls in
school by noon, and Louise Bryant was EVERYWHERE!  Gym class was SUPPOSED to
be a safe haven, but Toby lit things up with "Ta ta ta TA ta TA!  Let's give
a big hand for our own Randall 'Superstud' Braithewaite!"

	"Aw, shit, gimme a break, Toby!"

	"Get back!  Be careful in the showers!  The hot rod might misfire!"

	"Toby!  ENOUGH, Man!" Randall ranted, "or I'll get Beulah Tyrone to
swallow you!"

	"You know Beulah, too?"

	"Not like YOU will!" Randall replied.  A dozen guys laughed.

	"Okay, so what happened?" Toby asked.  "Erin has been spreading it
all over school that you're superman..."

	"She's... misinformed."

	"She's had Rob -- surely that's a basis for comparison..."

	"Well, she had... challenges.  I got really lucky -- and I'm not
sure how it happened..."

	"Is she good?"

	"She can be, I think," Randall replied.  "But not for YOU, Toby.
YOU need a Mama.  I'll talk to Peggy for you!"

	"Peggy!  EWWWWW!"  That got rid of Toby!  Still, there was a lot
more good-natured ribbing, especially from guys who wouldn't normally be
seen with him.  Odd, how your stock went up, purely by accident...

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

	Mary Nally accosted Darla Jean in the hallway, "You're coming
tonight, right?"

	"Astronomy Club?  Are you sure you guys want to be seen with me?"
Darla Jean asked.

	"You're the guest of honor, Hon."  Mary rested a hand on Darla
Jean's shoulder.

	"Oh, God!  Am I gonna pull a train?"

	"Hon, I think I ought to remind you that THIS is the bunch that
PROTECTED your rep..." Mary remonstrated.  "Besides, if you're concerned
about who can generate the biggest scandal, I'LL be there -- with BOTH of my
boyfriends -- and I GUARANTEE I can generate one that would sweep YOURS
under the rug!"

	"Then what's up?" Darla Jean queried.

	"Randall seems to feel responsible for your downfall," Mary sighed.
"Actually, you'd be surprised at the cast of characters involved, but if you
come, we'll all lay it out for you in gory detail..."

	Darla Jean shrugged.  "Randall just opened the door..."

	"I know that, but he doesn't.  You opened HIS, for that matter --
and now he's trying to deal with a case of sudden notoriety..."

	"Huh?"

	"You haven't heard the legend that is 'Stud' Braithewaite?" Mary
chided.  "You HAVE been shunned!"  She tittered.  "Apparently Erin McGrath
tripped him last night and became impaled on his cock; now she's telling the
world that he makes Rob Graham look like an amateur!"

	"No!"

	"Yes!  And poor Randall does NOT know what he's going to do with
Bang Nation..."  Mary released another titter.  "You KNOW they don't meet
his mental standards!  Even a horndog like Randall has to be able to talk to
his women occasionally..."

	Darla Jean shook her head.  On Saturday morning, looking around to
see if she could do better had seemed the safe course; now, more and more it
appeared that lightning had struck on the first pass, and she'd talked
herself out of a good thing.  Now Randall had a harem, and she had a
reputation as a slut -- and something simple had become extremely
complicated...

	"I think Randall tripped over Erin running from Louise Bryant," Mary
prattled on.  "She's been all over him like a coat of paint.  Although I
don't really see what makes her so objectionable..."

	Darla Jean shrugged.  "Me either.  In some ways she has more to work
with than I do..."

	"Well, I'm not sure what's up, but Randall can't STAND her -- and
she apparently can't take a hint..."  Mary mused a moment.  "Maybe we should
intervene..."  She shrugged.  "Meanwhile, are you coming?"

	"I guess," Darla Jean sighed.  "Are YOU gonna be there this time?"
she asked archly.

	"Promise.  Cross my heart." Mary returned solemnly.

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

	If you asked Randall what the problem with Louise was, you'd have
unaccountably hit a stone wall -- Randall couldn't really verbalize it.  In
fact, it defied rational analysis, which paradoxically for Randall made the
whole thing even more compelling!  Louise just gave Randall the heebie-
jeebies!  Maybe it was her coloration; Louise was brown.  Her skin was a
shade that looked like a permanent tan -- not really a bad thing -- but her
hair was brown, and her eyes were brown.  Louise wasn't huge or anything,
but she was just rounded enough to appear dowdy.  She was eighteen, but gave
off an aura that said 'spinster librarian', apparently twice her age.  While
Louise wasn't Brain Trust material, she could hold her own, intellectually
-- she wasn't stupid, by any means -- but her personality could best be
described as 'weak' or 'limp'.  Her timid, sheep-like demeanor led her to
accept the clothing choices of her controlling mother, items that papered
over the fact that she sported 36C breasts and decent, if oddly muscular,
legs by covering them in drab fabrics that made her a shapeless lump of
shadow.  Fact was, if you put Louise in a yellow bikini, the wolves would
sit up and take notice -- but it had never happened, and at the current
rate, it never would.  Louise's big chance SHOULD have been the Prom -- many
a girl made ground by proving that they cleaned up well at that function --
but she'd arrived stag in a hideous dress that contrived to de-emphasize her
good points while making her look overweight and lost what was probably her
only opportunity for some time.

	Louise's method of attempting to attract Randall's attention
reflected her lacks; basically, she was just contriving to be in his line of
sight as often as possible, looking moon-eyed and dumbstruck.  Randall was
seriously unprepared to accept hero-worship; it embarrassed him and caused
him to work at ignoring her.  Since she would never think of saying a word
to him, ignoring her was that much easier for Randall -- but the whole
stalker scenario had him spooked.  She was there, watching him from one
table over while he nervously attacked his lunch when Mary hove into view
with the word that Darla Jean would indeed be present for the Astronomy Club
meeting.  "Good," Randall sighed, "At least SOMETHING is going according to
plan!"

	"Problems?" Mary asked, amused.

	Randall rolled his eyes.  "Girls I've known since kindergarten are
suddenly wandering by ogling me like I'm a museum exhibit.  Have I grown
horns, or something?"

	Mary settled next to Teddy, chuckling.  "Last week, you were getting
NO attention, and complaining about THAT!"

	"Well, yeah -- but it's the expectations!  They're ridiculous!  The
first time things don't go perfectly with some girl, I'll get flushed down
the toilet, too!"  He leaned forward and added conspiratorially, "Besides,
I'm NOT getting attention from anything I WANT..." flicking his eyes at
Louise.

	"Louise might be a catch..." Mary hazarded.

	"Look, I can't explain it, but no thanks!  She's just NOT my type!
There's something..."  He shuddered.

	"Want me to see what I can do?" Mary asked.

	"Would you?"  Randall's eyes pled.  "I can deal with most of them,
but Louise...  I can't even be nice to her!  It's embarrassing, but..."

	"Let me see what I can do."  Mary hopped up and planted herself
across from Louise, "Hey Louise.  What's up?"

	"Oh, nothing."  Louise frowned gently; Mary had deliberately placed
herself in Louise's line of sight to Randall.

	"Why are you stalking Randall?"

	"Stalking?" Louise frowned.  "That's a strong word.  He's just
turned out to be a surprise.  I was thinking maybe..."

	"Well, don't, Hon.  It'll just get you hurt.  You're not Randall's
type.  In fact, you're freaking him out!"

	"What?"  Louise was taken aback.  "I haven't done anything."

	"Well, maybe not, but this thing you're doing, chasing him
everywhere, looks like stalking.  And all it's doing is making him nuts.
You need to settle on somebody else, Hon."

	Louise glared.  "YOU just don't want competition!"

	Mary pealed laughter.  "Hon, I have TWO, count 'em, TWO boyfriends!
My mother thinks I'm a total slut!  I've got neither time nor interest in
Randall, except as a friend of Teddy's!"  She leaned forward.  "But that
doesn't change the facts, and the fact is, Randall is embarrassed about it,
but he is NOT interested in you at all!"

	"Well..."  Louise looked frustrated, "Why not?"

	"He can't put a finger on it..."  Mary shrugged.  "Let's come at
this from a different direction.  Why are YOU suddenly interested in HIM?"

	Louise blushed.  "Ummm..."

	"Sex?  That's the only thing that has suddenly distinguished Randall
in the past week," Mary answered her own question.  "Are you into sex?"
Mary eyed the other girl closely.  "Have you even HAD sex?"

	"Mary!"  Louise had been dating her fingers fairly regularly since
she was thirteen, but she'd never even been to first base!  "Well, no, but
I've got urges.  Sex isn't it -- at least, not the whole thing.  I want a
boyfriend."

	Mary looked perplexed.  "Then why Randall?  Do you think you can
really put up with the nerdy guy stuff he does all the time?  What about
that hair?"

	"Gee, I dunno," Louise mumbled, picking at a french fry.  "I guess I
figured if he was that good at sex, and that nice to a girl..."

	"... Everything else was forgivable?"  Mary shook her head.  "Don't
settle, Louise.  You'll only end up unhappy."

	"That's easy for YOU to say!" Louise glared.  "I've got nothing!
Besides, sex might be really big!"

	"You need to know -- not guess."  Mary sat back and eyed Louise.
"What are you willing to do to get a boy?"

	Louise hesitated, then leaned forward, "Anything."

	"Anything?  That covers a lot of ground!"

	"What have YOU done?" Louise challenged.

	Mary shrugged.  "Well, quite a bit.  And the jury's not in.  But if
you prostitute yourself to get married, and then you slack off, you'll end
up divorced -- guys don't like that.  You need to try to cover more bases if
you're gonna try to handle the whole thing in one shot...  What ELSE do you
want?"

	"Well, all the regular stuff...  Good-looking, reasonably smart --
not up to Randall, maybe, but reasonably -- nice and considerate, but kinda
in charge..."  Louise sat a moment, musing.  "And I REALLY think the sex
thing will be important."

	"How important?  Randall's a stud, by all accounts; Peggy said she
flat couldn't handle him!  Maybe you should look for something less
intimidating..."  Mary snapped her fingers.  "You know, Randall isn't the
only guy who's turned up on the 'sexually adequate' list this week.  I
wouldn't wish Ted on a German Shepherd, due to the way he treats people,
but...  Have you ever considered Dwayne?"

	"Dwayne's a jock."

	"Which means?"

	"He's got girls falling all over him, no doubt."

	"Uh huh.  That's why it took Darla Jean all of three days to hunt
him down?  Guess again, Hon.  But Darla Jean, who by all accounts is high-
maintenance in the sack, considers him to be more than adequate.  While he's
not hung like King Kong and doesn't have the staying power of the Energizer
Bunny, he gets the job done quite nicely -- and, maybe more important, he
treats you nicely before, during, and after, something you WON'T get from
Ted.  Last but not least, he's good-looking and has nice buns..."

	"More than adequate?"  Louise cocked an eyebrow.

	"Hey, talk to Darla Jean, if you want specifics.  I just know that
we had a girl talk about what REALLY happened to Darla Jean, and Ted came
off as a rapist bastard, and Dwayne got the seal of approval..."  Mary
shrugged.

	"No shot with Randall?" Louise confirmed, doubtfully.

	"None," Mary confirmed.  "He's embarrassed about it, because he
thinks everything should have a logical explanation, but you bother him at a
gut level.  It's not something that you're gonna overcome."

	"That sucks," Louise groused.

	"Well, yeah," Mary agreed.  "But it doesn't mean you have anything
wrong with you -- it just means that you and Randall don't have any
chemistry."

	"That seems to be the case with me and a LOT of people," Louise
sighed.  "Thanks for the advice, anyway."

	"Sure.  Good luck."  Mary hopped up and returned to her lunch.

	"How did it go?" Randall asked, unwilling to risk a look at Louise.

	"Well, I think," Mary sighed.  "Poor thing -- she's just looking for
a guy..."

	"Well, she's gone," Teddy observed.

	"That's ONE down!" Randall muttered, exasperated.

	"This will all blow over inside a month and you'll be wishing you'd
ridden it harder," Mary predicted.

	"Maybe."  Randall wasn't convinced.