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From: Thinking Horndog <im_a_thinker@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The Pact: Episode 5 -- The Clubhouse 29/57 {Thiniking Horndog} (mf MF oral rom D/s)
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Date: Tue, 16 Nov 2010 05:10:03 -0500
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THIS one has the right title...  <sigh>



      

<1st attachment, "The_Pact_5.29.txt" begin>

Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Pact:  Episode 5 -- The Clubhouse
Part: 29 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 rom D/s

Chapter 29

	Bernice Higgins opened her eyes and examined Randy's bedroom in the
early morning light.  Randy's arm was draped over her, passing just under her
bare breasts, and he was snoring softly.  She caressed it gently, not wanting
to awaken him.

	He hadn't asked her -- but she hadn't argued.  When they were finally
done hauling those who wanted to go home back to the school, he'd just
pointed the van at his place.  She didn't say anything when he pulled into
the driveway and got out, then circled around to open her door and beckon,
"Come on," -- she just took his hand and let him lead her inside.

	He parked on the couch and turned on the TV, low, muttering, "I have
to wind down," -- but five minutes later they were kissing and he had a hand
in her panties and she was jacking him -- and five minutes after that, he was
between her legs, rocking her world!  When she opened her mouth to scream out
her joy, he applied his lips to hers and slid his tongue into her mouth to
suck while she came and came and came...

	Then he'd carried her in here and pulled her to him -- and the LAST
thing she wanted was to be somewhere else!  So they'd gone to sleep...

	Dirk had wandered in at some point, sniffed her, seemed to shrug, and
wandered off.  It had been momentarily scary, but turned out to be no big
thing.

	Thinking about it, Bernice decided she owed Miriam big time -- more
than she could repay.  She had no idea where she stood and could only hope --
but this was more than he had any right to expect.  She loved Randy's cock --
and she loved his urgent, powerful lovemaking -- but more than that, she
loved Randy!  Did she dare tell him?  Would he laugh?  Maybe she was just a
convenience -- a cum-dumpster.  That wouldn't be a surprise...

	She turned to look at him -- and he was looking back!  When had he
stopped snoring?  "I'm sorry!" she whispered.

	"What for?"

	"Waking you up."

	"I'm not."  He levered himself up just far enough to shift over and
suck in a nipple.  Bernice moaned and clutched his head to her.  "You like
that?" he stopped just long enough to ask.

	"Yessss..."

	"Good."  He kept at it for a while -- plenty of time for Bernice to
get soaking wet.  Then he backed off, leaving her wanting.  He eyed her,
pursing his lips.  "Did you want to come here?  I didn't even ask."

	"You didn't have to," Bernice replied.  "I think you know that."

	"I didn't KNOW, but I thought so," Randy replied.  "I don't know why,
though.  I haven't been nice to you..."  He looked at the ceiling.  "Not at
all, not ever."  It was true, more or less.  First, she'd just been that
noisy snaggle-toothed bitch, then she'd been the one who had thrown in her
lot with Marcel -- and THAT got her a rep as everybody's cum-dumpster.  How
many times had he just thrown her at some guy and told her to suck or fuck
him?  Then she and Miriam had started planning his love life -- which was
CERTAIN to get him pissed...  Despite some weird shit going down with Tyrone
and Toby's assertion that Bernice wasn't REALLY a slut, she caught shit time
after time -- and Randy had helped heap it on.

	Bernice eyed him sidelong.  "That's not true."

	"Okay, I fuck you when I feel like it.  That's nice?"

	"You kept me away from Tyrone..."

	"Yeah, well, Toby asked me to."

	"So..."  Bernice started to cloud up.

	"I think I owe you a break," Randy declared.  "I think a lot of
people owe you a break, but I do, more than most.  I don't understand why you
would even want to talk to me, though."

	Bernice looked away.  "If anybody understands how it is to be dumped
on all the time..."

	"It's you?" Randy finished.

	"I was gonna say it's you!"

	"So we're alike," Randy grunted.  "What else?  I'm not sure I like
that."

	"Well, when we're together..."  Bernice ground to a halt.

	"What?  When we're together, what?" Randy demanded.

	Bernice's eyes pled.  "I like it," she said tonelessly.

	"Sex?"

	"Any time you're not yelling at me or sending me somewhere else or to
somebody else."

	"And sex?"

	"Randy..."

	"What?"

	"Don't..."

	"Don't what?"

	Bernice sucked in a shaky breath.  "Randy, you're asking me for a lot
of stuff, but you're not giving me anything!  I don't think I could take it
if I went out on a limb and you sawed it off!"

	"Oh."  Randy frowned.  "Okay, I get that."  'What can I give her
without...'  "Okay, I'm not gonna jam you -- I promise!"

	It wasn't much -- Bernice wasn't reassured, but she went forward,
anyway.  "I love it.  I like sex, anyway, but with you...  I think maybe it's
because..."

	"Because?"

	"I can't, Randy!  If I do, you'll probably stick me out on the front
porch naked or something!"  Her eyes were wet.  "You'll run, at the very
least!"

	"Oh."  Randy stopped.  Instinct told him.  "Three words.  First one
is 'I'..."

	"Oh, God..."  Bernice covered her face.

	"You might as well say it..."

	"Ever since that night at the party when you gave Miriam to Frank and
we had sex...  It was just so good and I felt wonderful -- warm and
protected..."  She looked away.  "I think it was then.  But you had Miriam --
then suddenly you didn't, and I wondered if it was because of me..."

	"And you wanted it to be," Randy husked.

	"Yes."

	"I'm not sure that's how it went," Randy sighed.  "No, I know it
wasn't.  But..."

	"But?"

	"But it was real good and I kind of felt like letting up on you,
until I saw you afterwards and knew what you were thinking."

	"Oh."

	"I was already hip deep in Miriam and she was upset and I couldn't
deal with the hassle, so I put you off on Pete so you would cool off a
little.  I guess it didn't work that well."

	"No."  Tears were pouring; Randy wasn't giving her anything to cling
to.  She'd been a fool...

	"Then you guys started trying to run my love life," Randy muttered.
"That kind of thing is more or less guaranteed to piss me off and make me go
the other way -- but somehow, it didn't."

	"Wh--what?"

	"I could hold you out there at arm's length, but I couldn't seem to
push you away..."

	Her eyes swung to his, wide.  "Randy?"

	"I think maybe I'm a little sweet on you, too," he whispered, barely
audibly.  "Maybe."

	Bernice couldn't control her upper lip.  "I need to cry now.  It's
okay, but..."  She buried her head in his chest and started bawling.  Randy
rubbed her back, wondering why women cried when they should be happy.  It was
just... perplexing.

	Bernice sniffled and blubbered against his chest for several minutes,
making it wet with tears -- and snot, probably, too, he figured.  Then she
seemed to get a grip and looked up at him (and he KNEW there was snot on him)
and said, "I want you in me -- please?"

	Randy, who had been pretty distracted by all the bawling, muttered,
"I'm probably not..."

	"Yes you are," Bernice replied, collecting his erection in her hand.
"It's been hard all along..."  She rubbed it along her split, opening herself
and lubricating them both.  Randy went flat on his back and she repositioned
herself and settled on him, offering her lips for a kiss.  Randy accepted the
offer and let her get what she wanted, which was a slow motion kind of thing
that seemed to allow them both to feel every millimeter of his cock against
every fold of her vagina.  After a couple of minutes, she broke the kiss and
rose up just a bit, holding his eyes.  "I love you."

	"Guys have a hard time saying that," Randy whispered, reaching down
to grab her bubble butt and add a little something to their motion, "But that
doesn't mean we don't feel it."

	"Please?"  Bernice's eyes pled.

	"I love you."

	"Was that so hard?"  She laid her head on his chest, but continued to
hunch herself, assisted by his hands.

	"Yeah, but that's all right -- it just proves that I mean it," he
rumbled.  "You can just blurt it out any old time, but -- oof!"  He fended
off a second blow to his stomach, laughing.

	"Shut up and..." she began.

	"YOU don't tell ME to shut up!  I tell YOU to shut up!" he retorted
-- but his signature anger wasn't there with the words.

	"But..."

	"Shut UP, Bernice..." Randy lilted.

	"Yes, Randy."  She started sucking his neck.  That lasted for about
thirty seconds, then she whispered, "Oh, shit, this is good..."  Randy's cock
was finding just about every little nook and cranny...  "More..."  She pushed
herself up, bracing her hands on his shoulders, bringing pressure to bear,
working with his hands to exaggerate her stroke.  She cycled forward and out,
then up and back, then crashed down and in, sliding on into the forward
portion of the cycle without a break in the motion.  "Oh, Randy..." she
gasped, her eyes glassy, "Oh, Randy..."  She kept gathering steam until she
was whipping through the cycle, panting -- and then the whistle blew!
"AAAAAUUUUUUHHHHNNNNNGGGGHHHHH!!!!"  She froze in place, transfixed by the
power of her orgasm, then crashed onto Randy's chest!

	Randy did this insane move where he sat up and spun and flopped
forward -- and suddenly he was on top and in control and the train was moving
again!  They were going somewhere, too -- hurtling forward, rather than
cycling rapidly but not going anywhere, Randy's piston stroking steadily,
urgently in her cylinder.

	"Oh!  Oh!  Oh!  Oh!"  Bernice rolled her hips up to meet Randy's
strokes, loving the feel of him.  This was different than what they'd been
doing, but every bit as good, if not better!  Randy had his hands under her
shoulders, keeping her from being displaced as he powered into her smaller
body while she planted both feet on the mattress so she could raise her cunt
into perfect alignment to take him to the maximum depth.

	Randy got that look -- that inward stare that said he was close.
"Gonna..."

	"CUM!" Bernice wailed, "I want it!  I want your babies!"  She threw
herself up at him, smashing her pubic bone into his, arching herself.

	Her impassioned demand triggered him instantly as he reacted
instinctively to her imperative and he roared and gushed, pinning her to him,
still arched to maximize his penetration.  Bernice screamed and quivered as
she felt him shoot burst after burst of potent semen onto the open gates of
her womb, her passion consuming her a second time in response to his peak.
Then they collapsed...

	"What the fuck?"  Both Bernice and Randy were groggy with the
aftermath.  Adele stood there in the open door, with big Ed peering over her
shoulder.  "Bernice?"

	"Hi..."

	"Hi, yourself!  Come on, Ed -- let's go back to bed!  Y'all keep it
down!"  Adele headed off, head high, in a huff at having been awakened early.

	"Somebody's having WAY too much fun!"  There was another set of heads
at the door, one of them Damian's, and the other Alyssa's.

	"Go 'way!" Randy grunted, waving.  He turned his attention to
Bernice.  "What was that about babies?"

	"I want your babies!" Bernice insisted, seriously.  "Not today, or
tomorrow, or next week, but I want to get all big and pregnant with your
kids!"

	"Are you n--  Never mind.  We'll see.  Not real soon, okay?"

	"Okay, I'll wait."  Bernice stuck out her lower lip in a pout.  "If I
have to."

	Randy chuckled and shook his head and cuddled her to him, thinking,
'Yeah, this is going to work...'  "Let's take a nap."

	Two hours later, they got up for real.  Adele was making French toast
for Ed and Alyssa was assisting, while Ed and Damian loafed at the table.
Bernice and Randy got looks, but nobody said anything.  Bernice offered to
help and got directed to the coffee pot and the silverware drawer.  Then Brie
wandered in, presented herself before Ed, and announced, "Okay, I want mine!"

	"You want your what?" Ed asked, surprised.

	"You're in the club, right?  We have a deal.  If a club guy comes and
hangs out here, I get to suck him.  You've been here a couple of times..."

	"You get to what?" Ed scratched his head.

	"Brie, NO!" Adele put her foot down.  "Not this time!  Not Ed!  I
forbid it!"

	"Hey!  We have an agreement!" Brie insisted.

	"In the FIRST place," Adele declared hotly, "he's not REALLY a club
guy -- he's more like Mr. Carter..."

	"...Who I've sucked!" Brie interjected.

	"And in the SECOND place, he's MINE and you can't have him!" Adele
rode over her shrilly -- then stopped, because everyone was looking at her,
including Ed.  "He's my boyfriend..." she added more calmly, looking around.
"What?"

	"Nothin'," Ed rumbled, breaking the silence.  "Maybe you oughta come
over here and protect me from Brie."  His eyes laughed at her as he scooted
his chair back from the table.

	Adele went over and settled on his lap, then waved her finger at
Brie, scolding, "Not this one!  He might end up being your..."  She shut up
again and looked around.

	Brie's smile grew fangs.  In a tone that indicated that butter
wouldn't melt in her mouth, she said, "I'll be good, Daddy..." and batted her
eyes.

	"Oh, shit..."  Adele turned to Ed, her eyes round.  "I fucked up
twice in less than a minute!  You ain't gonna run, are you?"

	Ed was eyeing Brie, looking dazed.  "Daddy?"  He turned wide eyes on
Adele.  "You that serious?"

	"Well, yeah..." Adele admitted in a small voice.

	"When was you gonna mention it?"

	"Next week sometime?"  Everyone knew Adele was lying -- she'd have
waited a good deal longer, probably.

	"Once the teeth on the bear trap were nice and padded?" Ed clarified.

	"Something like that," Adele looked away.

	"Well, it's probly better that you hit me over the head with it," Ed
grunted.  "I'm not too good with such things."  He waved a finger at Brie and
said, "YOU behave yourself, Young Lady!"  Then he popped Adele on the butt.
"Where's my breakfast, Woman?"  He looked around while Adele hopped up and
turned to stare at him.  "I got privileges, right?"

	Damian chuckled.  "Sounded like it to me.  What about you, Randy?"

	"Sounded like it," Randy nodded, grinning.  "Put your fangs away,
Cheesecake -- no playing cum-vampire with Ed, he's gonna be family!"  He
turned laughing eyes on Adele, "Isn't that right, Momma?"

	"Oh, Lord..."  Adele dashed to the stove in a blatant attempt to
avoid the subject.  Moments later, she presented a plate of French toast to
Ed, muttering, "Ed, I..."

	"Shush.  I get it.  Shit, it ain't as if it's a BAD thing.  I'm gonna
need to get used to being all domestic..." Ed rumbled.

	"You're not mad or anything...?"

	"Seems like quite a deal from my end," Ed grunted, taking her hand.
"Settle down -- I can take it.  If you'd been all coy, I mighta took months
to realize what was goin' on -- and I mighta fucked it up."

	"Oh, thank God!" Adele husked, relief washing over her.

	"Go do what needs doin', then come back and sit on my lap so I can
feel you up," Ed directed.  "Who's got the coffee pot?"

	"I'll get it!" Brie shrilled.  "Daddy..."

	Ten minutes later, they were eating, handling the overflow at the
table by the simple expedient of having Alyssa, Bernice, and Adele sit on
their respective boyfriends' laps.  "So, how's this going?" Damian waved a
fork at Bernice and Randy.

	"I stopped kicking and screaming sometime this morning," Randy
grunted.

	"That probably makes life a little easier on everybody," Damian
opined.

	"Well, I'm putting my foot down -- Bernice isn't everybody's spare
bitch.  She's paid her dues," Randy announced.

	Damian pursed his lips.  "Yeah, probably."  If there had been any
question in his mind that Randy was taking Bernice seriously, it was removed
by that announcement.

	"I might put her on something to keep her from being uppity, bur she
isn't the default piece," Randy amended, eyeing Bernice.  Bernice didn't say
anything, but she didn't look worried, either.

	"I do that with Alyssa all the time," Damian ventured.  "Keeps her
head on straight."

	"Eggzactly!" Randy replied.  Bernice just stuck her face in his
shoulder.

	"That does it!" Brie hopped up and flounced to the door, then turned
back and waved a finger.  "I'm doing it with Pietro -- and I don't want to
hear NOTHING about it!"  She stomped out.

	"What was THAT all about?" Ed rumbled, perplexed.

	"She's the only one of us without a man," Adele sighed, "and that's
largely because I've been trying to anchor her in place -- not that it's been
easy."

	"Oh."  Ed studied this.  "She's what -- thirteen?"

	"Going on twenty," Randy grunted.  "She's been in a hurry for months
-- and keeps finding new ways to push things."

	"And this Pietro?"

	"Nice kid.  Her age.  They've ALREADY had oral sex," Adele sighed.
"If she's gonna..."

	"...And she is!" Randy interjected, "There's no stopping her!"

	"... Then he's a good choice," Adele finished.

	"So I don't have to get all stupid and pretend to be a parent?" Ed
queried.

	"No."

	"Okay."  Ed sounded relieved.

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

	Velma Baker, dressed in a housecoat, turned from the stove to eye her
son and the blonde white chick he was holding hands with as they entered the
room.  Otis was sitting in a chair with the brunette on his lap, rubbing her
here and there.  "When are you gonna let these girls wear clothes?" she asked
Tyrone.

	"Pretty soon, I guess."

	"They can't help cookin' like that -- a pop from bacon grease would
burn 'em.  You sending 'em home all marked up like that?"

	Tyrone pursed his lips.  "Good question.  Cindy, go put your panties
on and fish a couple of T-shirts out of my chest of drawers for you and
Beverly.  Then come on back and help Momma."

	"Yes, Tyrone."

	"Give us a kiss."  Tyrone gave Cindy a hug and a kiss and passed a
significant look at Otis, who popped Beverly on the ass gently and said, "Go
with Cindy and do what she's doin'."

	Tyrone speared Otis with a glance after Beverly pecked him on the
cheek and stepped clear.  "We need to talk."  He nodded toward the living
room.

	Otis nodded and got up to follow.  "What's up?" he asked when they
were alone.

	"Those two are different," Tyrone announced, waving vaguely, but
clearly meaning Cindy and Beverly.  "We have to treat them different and we
have to handle the situation different."

	"They be sluts," Otis said mildly, "What's all the fuss?"

	"They aren't just sluts," Tyrone replied, "And we're not going to get
much mileage out of them if we act like they are.  To make this work, we have
to make the whole thing look like Cindy and Beverly's idea -- and we need to
do what we can to keep their folks' feathers from being ruffled."  He sat on
a chair and settled back.  "Ghetto black ain't gonna make it, Man."

	"We got 'em under the thumb..." Otis objected.

	"Sure..."  Tyrone nodded.  "And if I can get my foot in the door, we
can probably handle their mamas.  But we DON'T have a handle on their
daddies, and if we come off like a couple of pimps from the 'hood, they'll do
everything they can think of to bust things up."

	"They can't unhook the sluts from us, right?" Otis queried.

	"No, but it won't mean shit if we're in jail, Man.  We won't be able
to get at them.  We need to be squeaky clean and plain vanilla, so having us
around won't be too bitter of a pill for their papas to swallow, even with
their mamas leaning on them -- dig?" Tyrone explained.

	"So..."

	"So we don't shit on 'em in public," Tyrone continued.  "We be lovey-
dovey and ask -- and they'll give it, anyway, but it won't be obvious.  No
making 'em do shit just to be doin' it.  We can't run 'em like whores -- and
we can't run whores, either -- they're a liability."

	"WHAT?" Otis erupted.  "That's my spendin' money!"

	"Yeah, and a good private dick will turn up the fact that they're
ours and Daddy will make a phone call and we'll be in jail.  We can't make it
that simple for 'em!" Tyrone retorted.  "Believe me, the paycheck on the
other end is gonna be a lot bigger than anything Patty or Simone turns out!"

	"Well..."

	"These guys are gonna take care of Daddy's Little Girl, man -- and if
we don't make waves, that will mean they'll be taking care of US, too!"
Tyrone insisted.  "But if we make it too hard, then we'll get taken care of
in a different way -- and we won't like it!"  Tyrone eyed Otis.  "If you
don't WANT Bev..."

	"Yeah, yeah, hold on, I get it.  We just can't ride 'em hard in
public, right?"

	"That's part of it.  We need to be a lot more vanilla, too -- the
whole oreo thing.  We've got to put away the whole ghetto black thing and be
upstanding citizens," Tyrone related.  "Can you do that?"

	The day before, it wouldn't have been possible, and Otis would have
admitted it at this juncture.  But today, thanks to Amy...  "It's a stretch,
but maybe..."

	"There's the visible benefit," Tyrone waved his thumb at the kitchen,
were female chatter indicated the return of the girls, "and the less visible
ones that come from being a member of their families.  You need to focus on
that."

	"I get it."  Otis nodded.  "About our whores..."

	"We can have a quiet talk with Marcel and Rudy and become silent
partners," Tyrone insisted.  "I'll shift control of Patty and Simone to them,
and they can slide us a percentage under the table -- they'll be grateful, so
it won't be a problem.  We can have them do something or other that isn't
visible, so if we're being watched -- and I bet we will be -- nobody will
notice."

	"Yeah, okay."  Patty and Simone were even more thoroughly
indoctrinated than Cindy and Beverly -- and the job had been pretty heavy-
handed.  As a result, they were only a limited amount of fun...  Tyrone or
Otis could have gotten either of them to crawl up and down the school halls,
naked, on a leash -- but that kind of thing was a little TOO obvious.

	"I'm going to want to tune the girls so that if they're asked why in
the fuck they're with us, the response is 'We love them,' not 'we're their
sluts'," Tyrone noted.  "The other thing will still be there, underneath, but
we don't want Daddy getting that answer, you know?  It's a little too 'in
your face'..."

	"Yeah, I get that."  Otis nodded.  "What about the dudes we hang
with?"

	"Man, hooking up with the two hottest properties in school is pretty
good reason to kiss off that bunch, don't you think?  Even THEY will see
that..."

	"Yeah."  Otis nodded.  "We need to limit what everybody hears about
last night..."

	"Yeah," Tyrone agreed.  "Rumors are probably okay, but we don't want
anybody saying, 'I fucked Cindy.'  We'll get Frog and Slick free pussy from
Patty and Simone to keep their mouths shut.  We can wire that with Marcel and
Rudy."  Tyrone thought about it.  "You know, we're not in the gang-bang
scenes at all -- we can even release the video, but the official tale will be
that we rescued them.  That will explain why they're hooked on us and it will
make us look good to their daddies!"

	"NOW you're thinkin'!" Otis approved.  "It'll keep the guys from
admitting anything, too, because it's the fast lane to the county lockup!"

	"Yeah, I like it!"  Tyrone nodded.  "Let's hook it up after
breakfast...  Are we good?"

	"Yeah."  Otis nodded.  "It won't hurt me at all to hear love words
from Beverly."

	"No, probably not," Tyrone grinned.

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

	"Abby!"  Ron gave the woman a shake.  "Get me some coffee and see
what you can find for breakfast!"

	"Okay."  Abigail got up and headed for the bedroom door.  "What do
you want me to wear?"

	"Your birthday suit," Ron replied.  "There are some big chef's aprons
in the kitchen.  Other than that..."  Ron had acquired them after Miriam's
first visit.  Abigail nodded.  "See if Slut is available to help."  Abigail
nodded again and left the room.  Ron lay there, trying to figure out why the
scrawny slip left him feeling so mellow.  He needed to get tougher with her
-- but all you had to do was look at her and you knew that it would take a
sledgehammer to get her outside her comfort zone -- she'd seen too much shit.
How did you test a cunt who'd obviously ALREADY been to the wall -- and not
just for a visit?

	She was back five minutes later, wearing the apron.  "How about
waffles?"

	'Little things...' Ron mused, eyeing her.  "You only wear that in the
kitchen -- and not to serve."

	"Okay."  Abigail took the apron off.  Ron was still pensive, and
maybe a little irritated.  Abigail thought about it.  "What do I call you?"

	'Yeah, that's it.'  Something had been wrong, and Ron hadn't been
able to put his finger on it -- but Abby had.  "I don't own you.  Sir, I
guess."

	"How about waffles, Sir?"

	"Is there any bacon?"

	"A whole pound, Sir."

	"Yeah, do 'em up.  Warm the syrup."

	"Yes, Sir."  Abigail headed out, clearly unfazed at having to respond
in that manner.

	'Minor tune-ups -- that's it.  She probably wouldn't freak if I
wanted to shit in her mouth!' Ron mused.

	Frank wandered in.  "I see you've got Abby dancing."

	Ron eyed his son.  "Okay, give!  Where in the FUCK do you find these
bitches?"

	"I can't go into details," Frank replied.  "I can hook you up with
people who can, but I made promises.  It's a club, sort of."  He thought
about it.  "Actually, neither of them is the way they are because of the club
-- they weren't trained there.  Abby wasn't for sure..."

	"Yeah, to hear her tell it, her old man put her though her paces,"
Ron rumbled.

	"I don't think she's lying," Frank noted.  "Miriam...  I think the
club accidentally gave Miriam an outlet.  But Miriam is a natural -- she
trains herself."

	"Slut, you mean," Ron corrected him.

	"That's right, Slut," Frank agreed.  "The club probably gives Abby a
chance to let it all hang out, too -- but I don't KNOW that."

	"If I want to talk to somebody..."

	"I can hook you up, Pa," Frank agreed, "but they're gonna want
something to maintain secrecy.  A skeleton in your closet -- preferably one
that would be enough to put you in jail."

	"Do it.  Tomorrow, maybe," Ron directed.

	"Okay."

	"Coffee, Sir?"   Miriam entered, holding two cups, and started going
to her knees.

	"Just give it to me, this time," Frank directed.  Miriam did so and
waited until Frank had sipped from the cup, then turned her attention to Ron
-- but said nothing.  Ron stuck out his hand and she came forward and gave
him the other cup, then turned and went to the door.

	"Will there be anything else, Sir?" she asked Frank.

	"No.  We'll be along."

	Miriam nodded and swept out, her ass swaying.

	"Takes it to the wall, doesn't she?" Ron noted.

	"All by herself," Frank agreed.  "It's hard to get ahead of her."

	"I have the same problem with Abby," Ron mused.  "She's been there
and done that, and all I can do is fine-tune her.  In some ways, it's
frustrating, but in others..."

	"Uh huh."  Frank nodded.  Having a willing woman waiting on you hand
and foot was VERY pleasant.

	Breakfast was fun.  Ron had Abby sit on his lap and fed her a waffle
and a half -- until she diffidently indicated that if she ate more, she was
likely to vomit -- while she fed him the same way.  Afterward, they put the
women on cleanup and went into the den to watch TV.  After a bit, Abigail
stuck her head in the door.  "More coffee, Sir?"

	"Nah," Ron grunted.  "Bring me a big piece of pussy."

	Abigail licked her lower lip and her eyes glinted while she thought
about what she could get away with for a response.  "At the risk of insulting
her, Miriam is probably the biggest we have available -- and I have no
control over her, Sir."

	Ron eyed Frank and they both snorted.  "I'll settle for yours, then.
Go spread yourself on my bed and get yourself nice and wet so I can go for
the gusto right away."

	"As you wish, Sir."  Abby managed to make her little ass sway.

	Ron looked pensive.  "What was I supposed to do about that shit?"

	Frank shook his head.  "I'd have to call that over the plate -- but
she's having fun, Pa.  You could get bitchy and fix her wagon -- and she'd
roll over and accept it -- but why?  Because you don't want her to come
back?"

	"Yeah, no shit.  I'd be whacking off my nose to spite my face."  He
got up.  "Guess I'll go see how wet she is."

	Ron wasn't Tom; Abigail was having no problem getting wet.  Ron
entered the bedroom to find her with her knees up and spread and one hand
rubbing her clitoris and nether lips.  "Keep at it," he directed, "I want to
see you get off."  So she did, watching him watch her while he got out of his
clothing.  When he was naked, he stepped up bedside the bed and began toying
with her erect nipples.  "Your old man ever think of piercing these?" he
asked.

	"I doubt it," Abigail panted.  "It's more attention than he would
have wanted to pay to me.  He never mentioned it, anyway."  Ron's fingers
were helping -- her toes were curling.

	"I might have abused the fuck out of you, but ignoring you is fucking
stupid -- it's a waste.  I'd want you wondering what the fuck was coming
next."

	Abigail was showing serious signs of an impending orgasm.  "You sure
know the way to a girl's heart, Sir!"

	Ron chuckled.  "Yeah, I'm good at that romantic shit.  A finger up
your butt right now might be just the ticket..."  He shifted his right hand
between her legs and felt for the puckered ring of her anus.

	"WAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!"  Abigail arched herself, throwing her torso
into the air, howling as the top of her head came off!  "OMIGAAAAWD!"

	"I think you're done..." Ron mused, crawling onto the bad.  When
Abigail collapsed back onto the mattress, Ron racked back her legs and slid
his cock into her still-quivering pussy.  "Ahhhh!  Yep!  Plenty wet..."

	It took Ron less than five minutes to get off; fully warmed-up as she
was, Abigail was positively manic as she danced on his cock!  When it was
over, Ron rolled off and said, "Give it a suck, Slut," and Abigail was all
over his cock, cleaning it slavishly with her lips and tongue.

	"Your old man didn't give you a moment of pleasure, did he?" Ron
asked, eyeing her.

	"No, Sir.  It was his job to torture me and mine to endure.  Sex was
Tom using and abusing me -- and making sure I hated it."

	"Fucking dickhead."  'I bet he never got this...'  Abby might have
cleaned her old man's cock -- and probably did, about a million times -- but
Ron was willing to bet that she'd never worked at it the way she was working
at his...  She was making it a labor of love, not just a cleanup.  Finally,
he grunted, "Go get dressed -- I'm about to overdose."

	Ron's parting words for Abigail were, "Come back Tuesday night -- and
bring something to cook!  I want to watch you eat.  Gain five pounds while
you're out so I don't hurt myself on your bony ass!"  He eyed Frank and
added, "Make sure those two hook up -- if Slut's porky ass wanders through
the door three times in a row without somebody throwing Abby through first,
I'm gonna stick my dick in it!"  Frank just shook his head and laughed.

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

	"He wasn't that bad..." Abigail declared from the back seat.

	"He can be," Miriam noted.  "I've seen him mad."

	"Yeah, well, we talked about it," Frank explained, eyeing Abigail
through the rearview mirror.  "He honestly couldn't find much fault with you,
since you'd OBVIOUSLY already been through the wringer.  It was a surprise --
he's tried women since Ma and most just can't handle it, even the ones who
THINK they'll do anything to be hooked up -- then you walk through the door,
and you've been there and done that, and shit he'd have done to most women to
separate the real thing from posers was a total waste of time..."

	Abigail nodded.  "I'll come out Tuesday, but I'm not ready to move in
with anyone."  She pursed her lips, looking away and thinking, 'Who am I
kidding?'

	Frank, watching her, wasn't fooled.

<1st attachment end>


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