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From: Thinking Horndog <im_a_thinker@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The Pact: Episode 5 -- The Clubhouse 14/57 {Thinking Horndog} (mf mF oral MF rough D/s)
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Date: Tue, 09 Nov 2010 09:10:11 -0500
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Chapter 14


      

<1st attachment, "The_Pact_5.14.txt" begin>

Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Pact:  Episode 5 -- The Clubhouse
Part: 14 of 57
Universe: The Pact
Summary: With Amy providing a feminine conscience, the boys clean up their
act somewhat and employ new recruiting methods -- at a new place.
Content: mf mF oral MF rough D/s

Chapter 14

	Lillian collapsed on the bed and began to cry.  Gabriel, not
realizing the fact that it implicated him, crawled over to her and pulled her
against him.

	Phyllis turned to Trish.  "Well?"

	"They were all in here together.  The boys were cuddled up too tight
to be innocent," Trish explained.

	Phyllis' eyes swept the four young teens.  "Well, are you innocent?"

	Brie and Pietro traded glances.  "Well, not THAT innocent!" Brie
replied, pushing back, refusing to act guilty.  Pietro prepared himself to
stonewall, too.

	Phyllis eyed the other couple and pursed her lips.  "Why is Gabriel
here, anyway?"

	Lillian dredged up some defiance, wiping away tears.  "Not for
Pietro!"

	Phyllis sighed.  "This is my fault..."

	"There is no FAULT!" Lillian insisted.  "I wanted to be with Gabriel
-- at MY house, not at the park!"

	"The park?"  Several people shared glances.

	"Gabriel and I have been seeing each other at the park, after
school," Lillian related tiredly.  "There are a lot of people around, so..."

	"How long?" Phyllis queried.

	"Since Brie's birthday."

	"What were you doing at the park?"

	"Holding hands, mostly."

	"And tonight?" Phyllis asked.

	Lillian refused to respond, but with Gabriel, honor was involved.
"We did it."

	"She's THIRTEEN!" Phyllis erupted.

	"Momma!" Lillian yelled, "I ASKED him!  I BEGGED, even!  It's not his
fault!"

	"Baby..."  Phyllis covered her face.  "All this sex going around..."

	"It's LOVE, Momma!" Lillian insisted.

	"At thirteen?  Baby..." Phyllis shook her head.  She turned to
Gabriel and pointed a finger.

	"She did, you know!" Brie erupted.

	"She did what?"  Phyllis shifted her attention to Brie.

	"Begged him.  More than once, too.  I tried to put it off, but..."

	Phyllis cocked her head.  "How?"

	"I figured if they got enough blowjobs..."

	Phyllis covered her face.

	Tabitha frowned.  "How come that didn't work?"

	"It was gonna," Brie explained, "but they went off to watch Miz
Horner and Big Bro go at it and when they got back, they were all worked
up...  Gabriel would have had to be dead to be able to say no..."

	Phyllis shook her head.  "What am I supposed to do?"

	"I need pills, Momma," Lillian announced.  "THAT's what you're
supposed to do!"

	"You can't lock her up," Bobby ventured.  "What stops you?"

	"Nothing," Phyllis replied tonelessly.  "Absolutely nothing."  She
eyed Brie.  "What about you?  Am I going to have to tell Adele I screwed that
up, too?"

	"Momma did, too, if you did," Brie replied calmly.  "Pietro and I
have been together before.  But we haven't done it -- the doctor says I'm not
ready."

	"What HAVE you done?" Phyllis demanded.

	Brie shrugged, unrepentant.  "Blowjobs.  Everybody KNOWS I do that.
I taught Pietro to lick me."

	Randy looked around.  "You know what?  It's too fucking late!
Everybody just go back to bed and let it sit until morning.  Cheesecake..."
He eyed Brie, then eyed Pietro.  "Fuck it."  He waved it off.  "What were you
guys gonna do?" he asked Bobby and Pete.

	"Probably fuck in the living room like they did LAST week!" Lillian
erupted, happy to spread the wealth.

	"Lillian!" Trish erupted.

	"Well?"  Lillian crossed her arms.

	"There ain't nobody in this room that don't know what sex is!" Randy
growled.  "You KNOW they're doing it!" he pointed out to Phyllis.  "Now you
know THEY'RE doing it," he swept an arm at the younger couples.  "This is
turning into one of those attacks of the stupids that Momma gets!  Everybody
shut the fuck up and go to bed somewhere!"

	Phyllis turned on Gabriel.  "You...!"

	Randy interposed himself between them.  "You HEARD how it was!
You're not gonna blame him -- and you're not gonna STOP either one of them!
So..."

	Trish intervened.  "You guys..."  She waved at the bed.

	"We're good here," Brie announced.

	Trish turned to Tabitha.  "Take the couch."  Tabitha nodded and took
Pete's hand.  "Momma, go back to bed with Randy."  She tugged Bobby's hand,
"Come on, Baby..."

	Randy grabbed Phyllis by the wrist and dragged her away; Phyllis,
drained, allowed it.

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

	Back in her own bedroom, Phyllis began to sob.  "You don't
understand!  I make that mistake, again and again -- and she's doing it
ALREADY!"

	"So tell me," Randy replied, hauling the big woman against him.

	"Do you know," Phyllis said quietly, "that each of my kids has a
different daddy?  Do you know that I don't even know who two of them ARE?"

	"Come on..." Randy dragged Phyllis onto the bed.  "Get it out," he
demanded, pulling her in against him.

	"I don't get it a lot, but I'm easy," Phyllis sighed.  "I get a
little drunk and some guy gets interested and he plays with my tits a little
and I just fall over on my back..."

	"Gabriel didn't just feel Lillian up for a couple of minutes and then
jump on her," Randy pointed out.  "Did you hear them?  I know it sounds
stupid to us, but they think they're in love."

	"That's better?" Phyllis asked.  "She's thirteen!"

	"Yeah, but he's doing his best for her," Randy pointed out.  "As long
as she has the hots for Gabriel, she's safe from other guys, you know?"

	"What about his brother?"

	"I don't think Gabriel wants to be like his brother," Randy guessed.
"Do you want to do this right?"

	"Well, yeah..."

	"I'll call Terence tomorrow, and he and Bonita can talk to Gabriel.
I know Gabriel listens to Terence."  Randy waved his finger at her, "But you
aren't stopping it!  Did YOU stop, once you got started?"

	"No."  Phyllis looked away.

	"How come you turn up pregnant all the time?" Randy asked.

	"I'm stupid.  I forget to take the pills.  It's usually not
necessary, you know?"  Phyllis shook her head.  "I get it once in a blue moon
-- and usually after I've given up..."

	"What are you doing now?" Randy asked.  "You're getting some,
occasionally."

	"I'm on something," she assured him.

	"Well, you put Lillian on something," Randy insisted.  "Then if she
has to have it -- and she will -- she's covered."

	"Yeah..."  Phyllis sighed.  "Thanks, I guess."

	"Just forget about it and get some sleep," Randy told her.

	Sleep wouldn't come.  On top of everything else, some soft sounds
wafted in through the connecting wall -- and Phyllis KNEW what they were...
"Randy?"

	"Mmm?"

	"I can't sleep.  I'm all worked up -- and besides, somebody is doing
it."

	"So..."

	"Again?"

	"Yeah."  Randy rubbed his face.  "Let me wake up."

	"I'll suck you."

	"Yeah, that'll help."

	It took a half-hour or so, but by the end they were both exhausted.
Randy fingered Phyllis' pussy while she sucked him erect, and then pounded
her doggie-style.  Since he'd already had her twice, he took a while to
recharge -- which got Phyllis plenty of attention.  When they collapsed after
that, sleep came quickly.

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

	"Was that him?" Abigail Fremd asked.

	"Yes."  Janice nodded.

	"He didn't look too bad from a distance."  Abigail gathered herself.
"It wasn't smart for him to bring you home."

	"If Daddy's car had been home, he'd have dropped me off a block
away," Janice replied.

	"Did you do it?"

	"Yes."

	"I can't protect you."

	"They say you can," Janice said quietly.

	"They?  Who?"

	"You know."

	"Those two kids?"  She did know, once Janice mentioned it.

	"Yes."

	"What do they know?" Abigail sighed.  "If your father takes it into
his head..."

	"They have a plan," Janice replied.  "It might not protect me the
first time, but it will after.  Besides, now Daddy won't be the first."

	"It's too late," Abigail sighed.  "It's too late for all of us."

	"It's never too late," Janice replied placidly.

	'So young...  So innocent.  Even with her father around, she still
has illusions.'  "Let's go to bed -- we don't want to be awake when HE gets
home."

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

	Being asleep didn't help Abigail an hour later.  Tom, angry at having
struck out at the clubs, woke her up and took it out on her, choking her with
his cock until he managed to get off -- which took a while, given how drunk
he was.  Abigail would barely be able to croak in the morning.

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

	Saturday was definitely the morning after the night before.  Candace,
fresh as a daisy and full of young male cum, bounced out of bed early and
called Fred -- too early for Louise's happiness.  Fred had gone out drinking,
but moderated it and as a result was able to deal with things; he made
several calls, collecting the team he'd selected to assist with the clubhouse
makeover.  The boys weren't home; Damian was sleeping in Alyssa's room at the
Hayes' and Terence and Bonita had the couch.  Adele and Ed, having gone three
very happy rounds, never noticed until Phyllis called to apologize about
something or other and asked Adele to coffee -- oh, and did she know where
Terence and Bonita were?  Adele, who didn't, initially, ended up calling
Phyllis back when she found the couple on the couch.

	Coffee with Phyllis could wait until Ed was fed, by God -- Adele saw
him out the door smiling and got "I'll call ya -- don't get busy on me!"
after he consumed three eggs and half a pound of bacon.  Alyssa cooked for
everyone else.

	Terence drove.  Phyllis was uneasy, to say the least, and after some
hemming and hawing, it came out.  "Lillian and Gabriel are having sex."  That
brought a rapid-fire harangue on Gabriel from his sister, but he held his own
-- Bonita wasn't exactly spotless.  Lillian was all over it, too, insisting
that they'd been seeing each other for some time and that Gabriel had been
both reluctant and a gentleman.  Brie supported these assertions, as well as
Pietro -- which triggered the second revelation, "Brie and Pietro are ALSO
having sex!"

	Brie contested that charge vociferously, insisting that they were
'merely' trading oral sex -- and offered to back it up with a pelvic exam.

	"What do you want from us?" Bonita asked Phyllis.

	"I don't know.  Randy SWEARS that now they've started, they won't
stop..." Phyllis sighed.

	"If they do, it'll be on their own," Randy insisted.

	"Mi amor?" Bonita eyed Terence, who shifted his attention to Gabriel.

	"I SWEAR I tried!" Gabriel insisted.  "I was going to stick with..."

	"What?" his sister asked.

	"What they were doing," Gabriel pointed at Brie and Pietro.  "I tried
to do the right thing, but..."

	"It's true!" Pietro erupted.  "She begged him for it!  How can you
pass that up?"

	"You all need a closer eye," Adele opined, "but we're closing the
barn door after the horse has left."  Shrugging, she turned to Phyllis.
"Things are no better at my house."

	"Do I tell Gabriel's mother?"

	"No."  That was Bonita.  "Gabriel will not be treated fairly.  He
will be abused, while his silver-tongued older brother gets away with much
worse.  Everyone says Gabriel acted honorably."

	Phyllis nodded.  "What do I do?  Sanction this?"

	"Look the other way," Terence rumbled.  "It'll go away, or it won't.
Lillian needs pills, though.  I'll talk to Mama."

	"What about Brie?" Phyllis asked.

	"It's not news," Adele sighed, "Although Pietro is."  She eyed the
boy.

	Terence and Randy shared a glance.  Terence rumbled, "Learning to
lick pussy isn't so terrible."

	Adele threw up her hands.  "You guys!"

	"Oh, come on, Momma!"  But Randy grinned instead of launching into a
tirade.

	Eventually, there was another breakfast -- the second for some.

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

	At Travers', Donna got up first and put on coffee, then dragged Mac
out.  There were noises coming from her mother's room -- rhythmic noises --
so she left them alone.  Noreen and Harmon wandered down while Donna was
cooking breakfast.

	Harmon seemed subdued.  Noreen carried the conversation, starting
with, "Harmon says he's seen you naked."

	Donna sighed.  "Yeah, he has.  Mac and I were having sex when he came
home unexpectedly."

	Noreen flicked a glance at Harmon.  "And he felt you up?"

	"We were with Tad and Anita," Donna related.  "Mac took them home --
and that's when Harmon announced himself...  What happened here?"

	Noreen flicked a glance at Harmon, who seemed to be hiding in his
coffee cup, and said, "I was getting ready for bed and the doorbell rang, and
Harmon was there and came in and said outrageous things and grew tentacles
and I couldn't get away...  Eventually, I didn't want to."

	Donna nodded.  "I got the same thing -- and I started out naked.  I
was lucky Mac wasn't gone long."  Both of them looked at Harmon -- who
carefully didn't look back.

	The men didn't stay long.  Harmon climbed out of his shell to thank
Noreen for a pleasant evening, exercising his charm in a subdued manner.
Mac, behind him, shrugged and popped his eyes.  Then they were gone.

	Then the REAL interrogation began.  "How long have you two been
having sex?" Noreen asked.

	"A couple of weeks."  Donna hung her head.

	"And you've been dating how long?"

	"A couple of weeks."  That brought a disapproving silence...

	"Where did you meet?" Noreen asked, finally.

	"There was a party after the football game," Donna related.  "Sort of
a mixer.  Misha and Anita and I got invited..."

	"Sounds more like a frat party," Noreen mused.

	"Well, there is kind of a club -- nothing official.  You get invited
because you know somebody.  We knew Miriam."

	"What are you not telling me?" Noreen asked.

	"Lots of stuff," Donna admitted.  "We made promises -- I can't break
them.  I could probably find someone who can tell all, but..."

	"But what?"

	"You would have to sign up."

	"There are older women in this club?"

	"I probably shouldn't go there."

	Noreen sighed.  "Maybe I SHOULD sign up -- now that I'm having sex
again.  At least you're on birth control -- your idiot mother, who OUGHT to
know better, had unprotected sex four times last night and this morning with
a man she barely knows..."

	"He's a special case," Donna mused.

	"Well, he didn't use a rubber -- and I let him.  And I even told him
not to bother after the first time!  How stupid is THAT?"

	Donna played with a water ring on the table top.  "I think I can get
you a morning after pill.  The group has... resources."

	Noreen looked sad.  "You know what's godawful stupid?  I don't want
one..."

	"Mom..."  Donna knew EXACTLY what her mother had paid for her last
indiscretion.  "You don't want to do that again."

	Noreen sighed.  "I don't want the down-side.  But, Honey, you're
doing adult things -- how long will you be here?  I enjoy being a mother --
but you don't need much mothering anymore, and soon you probably won't even
need advice..."

	Donna took her mother's hand.  "Really?"

	"Is Mac like his father?"

	"No, he's a lot more... direct, I guess," Donna related.

	"Are you in love?"

	"I am.  I think he is."

	"Be careful until you know."

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

	Harmon went straight to the refrigerator for a beer and then to the
den and turned on the TV.  Mac followed him.

	"Pop."

	"Let's not talk about it."

	"It's a new low."

	"Let's not talk about it."

	"What am I supposed to do here?"

	Harmon just waved his hand.  Mac, frustrated, sat there pretending to
watch television with his father for fifteen or twenty minutes.

	Finally, Harmon muttered, "Don't worry about it.  I'm not going back.
I won't bother Donna, either.  I'm scared to death of the woman!"

	"What?"

	"Mac, what is the cardinal rule for screwing with strange pussy?"

	Mac blinked.  "Always use a rubber."  'Shit, I'm not...' he added to
himself.

	"How likely do you think it is that I would break that rule?"

	"I'd say the chances were slim and none."  Harmon had gotten custody
of Mac at birth, because the girl he'd knocked up with him was patently
incapable of raising a child.  Harmon had learned his lesson in the same hard
school Noreen had.  Harmon had slept with hundreds of women since then -- and
used a rubber every time...

	"How likely do you think it is that I would fail to use a rubber FOUR
SEPARATE TIMES?" Harmon rasped.

	"WHAT?" Mac gasped.  "Pop -- you're kidding!"

	Harmon shook his head.  "The only thing I can guess is that while I
was running my game on her, she was running hers on ME!"

	"But how could that be?" Mac asked.

	"If I knew that..." Harmon mused.  "The thing went down like
clockwork; Noreen was easy -- a pushover.  I mean, her mouth was moving, but
she wasn't much of a fighter.  I had her naked on the couch in under five
minutes, probably.  I should have been able to finger-fuck her and suck her
titties until she was good and docile and then had her lead me off to her
bedroom."

	Mac nodded -- that was Pop's standard play...

	"Well, it didn't happen that way," Harmon continued.  "I kept getting
this sense of urgency that said I needed to keep pushing.  I didn't even
think about it -- I just shucked out of my pants and spread her open on the
couch like we weren't going to get there unless I got plugged in right away.
I poked her and went absolutely crazy in that pussy..."  Harmon stopped and
stared at the coffee table top for a good minute and a half.  "Yeah, and
that's another thing.  That woman has to be the hottest piece of ass I have
ever fucked -- bar none!  That makes her dangerous all by itself!"  He shook
himself.  "I didn't even THINK about a rubber until I was about to blow my
nut, and when I warned her -- not that I was pulling out, mind you, but that
I was about to paint her insides white -- she rears up and yells, 'GIVE ME
BABIES!' at the top of her lungs!  Now that ought to have been plenty to make
me sane again -- but instead it was like switch flipped in my head and I
buried my tool in her and shot off like a Gatling gun!"  He rubbed his face.
"Has Donna told you that you have something in common?"

	"Like what?" Mac asked.

	"You were both the accidental bonuses of unexpected trysts," Harmon
replied.  "Noreen said she got pregnant on the night she lost her cherry --
apparently at a frat party where there were three guys in the line-up.  I
guess her folks disowned her or something, so she went cold turkey..."  He
shook his head.  "Now she's afraid she's done it again."

	Mac shook his head.  Pop wouldn't walk on that; if Noreen got
pregnant, Pop would fix it, one way or the other -- it hit too close to home.

	Harmon took a swig of his beer.  "Funny, it didn't keep her from
doing it again -- she said the damage was done, so she might as well enjoy
it.  And it didn't keep me from climbing right back on, without a rubber..."
He sighed.  "You know, we did it four times -- I don't think I have anything
left!  She took a whole crop of little wigglers -- if she isn't knocked, up,
she ought to be!"  Shaking his head, he sucked down another swig of beer.  "I
think she's God's way of getting even with me for all the women I've slept
with."

	"What do you mean?" Mac asked.

	"I knew it wasn't smart, fucking her without a rubber -- we TALKED
about it!  But she talks straight to my dick and my brain isn't even in the
circuit!  I have to stay away from her -- because if I don't, I'll be a papa
again, if I'm not already!"

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

	Frank woke up early -- something about sleeping with a woman in his
bed.  He wasn't used to someone taking up the space.  He lay there, thinking,
and realized that getting a morning blowjob was a little too obvious a ploy
-- Miriam would decide he was addicted or something.  No, it would be better
if he showed some control...  "Get up, Slut!"

	"Hmm?"  Miriam rolled over and focused bleary eyes on him.  "Sir?"

	"Go see if there is anything to eat.  Start the coffee, anyway.  I'll
be right down."  Miriam reached for her panties, and Frank added, "Go naked.
That's how I want you unless I say otherwise.  Git!  You can wear your shoes,
I guess."  He watched Miriam stagger off, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

	She had the coffee pot going when he entered the kitchen after
stopping in the bathroom to take a leak.

	"Do your folks know how you are?" Frank asked.

	"No, Sir."

	"When do they expect you home, do you figure?"

	"Ten?"

	"Are there any eggs?"

	"I'll look."  There were six, as it turned out.

	"Scramble them.  Any bacon?"  Frank eyed Miriam's bare ass as she
bent to dig in the meat drawer.

	"About a half a pound, Sir."

	"Okay.  Fry that up, first, and scramble the eggs in the grease,"
Frank directed.  "First go up to my room and drag a T-shirt out of the drawer
-- if your fun bags get burned, I want it to be because I burned 'em.  Hurry
the fuck up!"  Frank snagged a dish towel from the counter and popped Miriam
in the ass with it.

	Miriam got moving and was back quickly.  "You CAN cook, right?" Frank
asked, eyeing her.

	"Basic stuff," Miriam admitted.

	"Like bacon and eggs?" Frank confirmed.

	"Yes, Sir."

	"I think there is a roll of biscuits in the fridge.  See if you can
knock them out, too.  Look around and get used to the place -- you'll be
feeding me regularly."  Frank flicked a glance at the coffee pot.  "Cups are
in the cabinet on the left.  I drink mine black.  Pop likes a squirt of
milk."  Miriam moved to the cabinet and got down two cups, but merely filled
one and presented it, then went digging for a bowl and a wire whisk and a
frying pan.

	Ten minutes later, Ron put in an appearance, drawn by the smell of
frying bacon.  "She still here?"

	"I'm trying her out with pans," Frank related.

	"I don't see no cum running down her leg," Ron noted.

	"I can't have her thinking her only job is riding my dick," Frank
replied.  "Domestic shit is important."

	Ron grunted.  The fucking bitch wasn't any tiny thing, but she had a
nice ass.  Nice fun bags, too, if you liked them good-sized -- and Ron did.
Frank's AC-DC T-shirt looked better on her than it did on him.  Even more
important, maybe, was the fact that she hadn't said a fucking word yet.

	"Want coffee?" Frank asked.

	"Yeah."

	Miriam poured coffee in the cup she'd already staged and went to the
refrigerator for milk.  The expiration date was in the past; she smelled it
and it was gone.  "The milk is spoiled, Sir."

	"Look for half-and-half," Frank directed, "Pop likes half-and-half."
There was a pint and it was okay; Miriam poured a dollop in Ron's cup and
placed it before him on the table, then returned to the bacon.  Ron sucked
his coffee thoughtfully.  She'd known how he liked it and she'd had a cup
ready -- but went to Frank for direction and didn't make a production out of
giving him his cup...  The question was, how had she given Frank his?  Ron
watched Miriam work; she seemed organized.  The biscuits came out of the oven
before the eggs were finished.  Miriam reached in the cupboard for a plate
and brought it down; Frank erupted, "Hook Pop up," and she grabbed a second.
She split the food equally and Frank waited for her to serve before telling
her, "Get yourself a little."  Last, but not least, she presented Frank with
his plate, head down, formally, and first -- but just placed Ron's before
him, and didn't bring hers to the table at all, but ate standing up at the
counter.  It was all very clear...  For Frank, it was "Coffee, Sir?"  Ron got
a look...

	Breakfast completed, Frank directed, "Wash the dishes and the floor
-- there is one of those mop things in the closet.  Come get me in the den
when you're done.  Gimme the T-shirt -- you're done cooking."  Miriam just
nodded and pulled the shirt off over her head and handed it to him.  Twenty
minutes later, she was in the den.  "Bedroom."  Frank pointed and followed
her up the stairs.  Ron turned up the TV -- he knew what was coming next...

	He was right, too -- Frank knelt Miriam up and slid his cock into her
-- and tried to last long enough to get her off three times while pretending
he was having trouble because she was such a lousy lay.  He didn't make it to
three, however, and had to settle for two.  Miriam turned around and sucked
him in to clean him when they were done without prompting, after which Frank
pushed her over on her side and thence to her back and spent a lot of time
caressing her under the guise of looking for this or that possible problem.

	Miriam absorbed this and tried not to smile.  Frank did a fine job of
pretending to be a bastard, but he also made sure she got something out of
the visit.  Since he wasn't supposed to give her a break, he pretended that
he wasn't -- and she pretended that she didn't know any better.  No problem.

	Time was running short, so Frank had Miriam jump in the shower and
didn't harass her.  Then Frank drove her home.  On the way, he told her, "I
want you tomorrow for a few hours -- tell your folks whatever.  Let me know
when you can get out.  We're going to the grocery store.  Wear flip-flops and
plan to clean the bathroom."  Then he pulled to the side of the road and
reached across to capture the side of her neck and pull her to face him at
close range.  "You were good today -- damned good.  You walked the line and
didn't embarrass me and didn't piss Pop off.  I'm pleased."  He leaned in and
kissed her.  "Don't cop an attitude, now."

	Miriam smiled to herself.  "Yes, Sir."

	Frank put them back on the road and said nothing further until they
arrived at the foot of Miriam's block, merely following her driving
directions.  "Okay," he said when they stopped.  "I'll meet you here
tomorrow.  Put my number in your phone..."  He waited while she got it out
and programmed it.  "Call me when you're ready."

	"Yes, Sir."

	"Get out before I decide to suck a hickey on you or something!"

	Miriam smiled all the way up the block.

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

	Ute Fleiss eyed her daughter.  "You had a good time?"

	"Yes, Mama."

	There were other questions, mostly for the benefit of Miriam's
father, who sat listening and pretending to read the paper while making sure
that his wife was properly interested in her daughter's activities.  The real
interrogation waited two hours until Ute could be alone with her daughter.

	"The Shwartzer is gone?" Ute kicked it off.

	"Yes, Mama."

	"But there is another boy."  It was a statement, not a question.

	"Yes."

	"It is very soon -- only a couple of weeks ago you were telling me
about love..."

	"This one was waiting, Mama.  He knew the other thing was not going
to work."

	"So what is this one like?" Ute asked.

	"Hard.  I'm not sure you would approve of him -- but Poppa would, if
for no other reason than that he is not a Schwartzer."

	"How is he hard?"

	"He makes demands.  He has expectations.  I must fulfill them."

	"I see."

	"I like it," Miriam insisted.  "It is what I was looking for."

	"Should I expect this one to last longer than the Schwartzer?"

	"If I say yes, you'll only laugh at me, Mama," Miriam replied,
grinning.  "Let's just wait and see.  He wants to see me tomorrow."

	"What if I say no?"

	"He may put up with it -- once or twice.  Then he will come to see
you -- or Poppa.  There will be a confrontation."

	"And?" Ute cocked an eyebrow.

	"He will win, Mama.  If he comes for me -- and he will -- he WILL
win."

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

	Frank waited his father out.  Finally, at midafternoon, over
football, Ron grunted, "Okay, I'm fucking impressed.  Where did you say you
got the porky bitch?"

	"School, Pop.  Some idiot got her started and then discovered he
didn't have the balls to hang onto her."

	"How long do you figure she's gonna put up with your shit?"

	"I guess we'll see.  She isn't your average piece."

	"Don't expect too much," Ron grunted.

	"Nah.  I'll treat her like a good dog -- work her hard and pet her
and rub her ass every once in a while.  She'll take to it or she won't."

	"When is she coming back?"

	"Tomorrow.  We're gonna get groceries and she's cleaning the bathroom
-- then I'll probably butt-fuck her," Frank related.

	Ron chuckled.  "It's a plan."

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

	"Gina!" Bethany Blaisdale yelled.

	"Sis?"

	Bethany covered the mouthpiece of her phone.  "What do you know about
Kelly Samuels' sister Wanda and some football player named Pete?"

	"Pete Franklin," Gina supplied, poker-faced.  "They're dating.  He's
taking Wanda to Homecoming."

	"How did THAT come about?" Bethany asked sharply.

	"You know, Sis, sometimes things just happen without any visible
reason," Gina replied.

	"But this isn't one of them," Bethany retorted.  "Why don't you come
clean?"

	"It's not my tale to tell," Gina replied, and shut her bedroom door.

	"Gina says they're dating and he's taking Wanda to Homecoming,"
Bethany related.  "I KNOW there is more to it, but Gina isn't talking.  For
one thing, the football team is ground zero for all kinds of weird hookup
this year!"

	"I hear they're three and oh or something, too, after being dead last
last year," Kelly muttered.

	"You wanna cruise Wimpy's this afternoon and see if we can hear
anything?" Bethany asked.

	"Yeah.  Four?  We can do a movie at six-thirty or whatever," Kelly
suggested.

	"Cool.  See you then!"

<1st attachment end>


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