Message-ID: <60840asstr$1292818204@assm.asstr.org> X-Original-To: story-submit@asstr.org Delivered-To: story-submit@asstr.org X-Original-Message-ID: <780296.21369.qm@web31813.mail.mud.yahoo.com> From: Thinking Horndog <im_a_thinker@yahoo.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 19 Dec 2010 09:27:20 -0800 (PST) Subject: {ASSM} The Pact: Episode 5 -- The Clubhouse 48/57 {Thiniking Horndog} (MF rom) Lines: 756 Date: Sun, 19 Dec 2010 23:10:04 -0500 Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr.org/Year2010/60840> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-admin@asstr.org> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@asstr.org> X-Moderator-ID: newsman, dennyw Chapter 48 <1st attachment, "The_Pact_5.48.txt" begin> Author: Thinking Horndog Title: The Pact: Episode 5 -- The Clubhouse Part: 48 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 rom Chapter 48 "You're gonna be mad, I'm afraid..." Harmon jerked as if he'd been electrocuted! Instinct told him that there could only be one reason he might get angry... "Noreen?" Her sigh confirmed it for him before her voice did, "Yes." Harmon was suddenly very tired. "Whose bright idea was this?" "There seems to be a list -- it's a major conspiracy. I don't think I was invited to put my two cents' worth in until long after they put the thing in motion. Of course, I didn't stop it..." "I'm sure there's a reason..." Harmon said dryly. "Well, I figured that either it's meant to be or it isn't -- but running from each other just made us both miserable and didn't resolve anything. It's better that we just find out, one way or the other and move on." Noreen sighed, "At least, that's the way I rationalized it." "Well, so, I've ALREADY stuck MY foot in it -- how was it for you?" Harmon asked. "If it hadn't been for the rubber, I think it would have been better than last time." "I'm surprised I remembered the thing," Harmon sighed. "Well, you worked at it," Noreen replied. "It was the very first thing you did." "Oh, I got it -- but I almost forgot to put it on." "I started the pill," Noreen said softly. "Well, that's a relief!" Harmon grunted. "Is it?" Noreen asked softly. "Is it really?" Harmon sighed. "There ARE lights in here somewhere, right?" "Try the intercom. I think they can activate them from the outside." Harmon lurched up and hit the button. "Okay, joke's over. Can you give us lights?" A lamp came on beside the bed. Returning his attention to Noreen, he said, "Talk to me." Noreen looked away. "The first time, I was miserable -- and alone. I think I did a good job, but loneliness leached a lot of the joy from it. Besides, it's almost over, isn't it? Mac and Donna..." "So you want to do it again." Her eyes shifted to his. "I want to do it RIGHT! Tell me you don't, too! Tell me you haven't been looking for someone who would take that step WITH you..." She had him. All those years, he asked the crucial questions and got, 'Not right now' or 'I've done that before' or 'I'm really too busy -- maybe later' or 'I'm building my career right now.' Lately, it had been, 'Do you really think that's a good idea at your age?' So Mac grew up alone, motherless -- that's how it had been. Maybe, if he'd been fishing in a different pond, he might have found a woman who met his needs -- and maybe not. Now, though, when it was theoretically too late, there was Noreen, telling him it was NOT too late -- merely too late to integrate the new arrivals with the current crop, which had somehow reached maturity despite his failings... "No woman has ever lasted past the sixth date," he replied. Noreen gazed back at him steadily. "Harmon, you know that is NOT going to be a problem -- now don't you?" Harmon nodded. "Yeah." Somehow, there was very little question on that score. "Still, I'd feel better if we didn't make any babies until, say, this time next week." Noreen's eyelids drooped. "It's up to you." "I can handle it," Harmon replied confidently. He punched the intercom button. "How long do we have?" "All night, effectively, "Toby's voice came back. "I'll unlock the doors so you can go back and forth. What time do you need to get up?" "Six-thirty, if I can have my shaving kit," Harmon replied. "That's fine," Noreen agreed. "I'll have Mac and Donna come up when they're done with what they're doing," Toby promised, "and they can pick up whatever you two need." "That'll work," Harmon agreed. "How long, do you think?" Toby assessed Donna and gestured for Amy, who linked in and checked Mac. The pair was fucking wildly, doing it doggy -- and Mac was on his second. "It's going to be a while, I think," Toby related. Noreen reached up and put her hand on Harmon's neck, tugging him down. "We'll think of something to do while we wait." Five minutes later, Harmon was deep in Noreen, pumping away, ironing the inside of her love tunnel -- without a rubber... ---------------------------------- The couples missed each other by about an hour on Friday morning; Harmon and Noreen (and Mac and Donna) were leaving the clubhouse when Kelly and Julio rolled out of bed. Both women secured promises from their lovers that they would call for a return engagement on Saturday; both of them had been fucked bowlegged and neither was in any position to support sex on Friday night. Frankly, Julio and Harmon weren't in much better shape. Julio's surly anger of the evening before had dissipated; he had met the enemy and she was his. Basically, he'd seen it all and was already getting used to it. Kelly, knowing he loved to be fawned over, made sure he got plenty of attention before she let him go, leaving him well-pleased with himself and his situation. Oh, it was STILL wrong -- he would argue THAT until he was blue in the face -- but it was survivable. THAT he would admit to. What he knew but wouldn't admit to was that it was actually a lot better than that... Toby and Amy had gone home and gotten some rest as soon as the couples were settled, leaving Abigail in charge. That wasn't a problem, since everyone was occupied. The week had turned out to be hectic -- and they had a game and a dance to get through, at least... ---------------------------------- That Cindy Simpson's reign was over was clear even to Cindy. She didn't even try to shift what was left of her voting bloc in the elections of Homecoming King and Queen to another candidate for fear the effort would jinx the recipient. Dealing with her reduced social stature would have been galling, except for the fact that the team finally accepted her -- more as a charity case than anything else -- and Tyrone. Tyrone was just there... When things got hard -- and they did, sometimes, because old enemies tended to float by and gloat -- Tyrone wrapped his arms around her and let her tuck her face in his shoulder and cry and close out the world. Nothing made her earlier pride and stupidity more obvious than the parade of those who wanted to rub in her misfortune, but the up-side was ever before her in the form of her new boyfriend -- a REAL boyfriend, not a cardboard cutout to be used in photo shoots. Of course THAT had been her fault, too -- she'd been looking for someone to play second fiddle so she could be the reigning queen of her social set, and she'd been so insufferable that no one had been interested. But she'd been hurting herself, primarily; the only person she loved was the one she saw in the mirror -- and THAT image lied... Tyrone seemed to have changed overnight. The 'bad boy' image dropped away and the things it obscured -- like the fact that he was a straight 'A' student -- became apparent. Otis seemed to have done the same, but he was struggling with it more; Cindy told Beverly that she admired him for the effort, if nothing else. Beverly's response was, "Otis has his rough spots, but he's wonderful. I help him where I can." It was a different thing for both of them -- Cindy and Beverly had been more involved in using people than helping them in the bad old days before 'that night.' Every favor they dispensed had come with a price tag, and some of those prices had been steep. As it turned out, Mary Vargas was elected Homecoming Queen. Tad was elected King, of course. Gina Blaisdale was a Princess -- and little Anita Shepherdson managed to make the court, too, along with Ben Ellis and Mark Torres. The guys hadn't even tried, as was more or less typical -- girls tended to nominate them and they looked on the election with amusement until the moment of surprise when the announcement that they'd been elected came out. Janice Fremd was horrified until Mark made it clear that just because he'd been elected to the court didn't mean he was changing his date. "You're my girl, Squirrel -- period!" he announced at lunch. Nobody really knew why he called her that... Cindy and Beverly weren't even 'also rans' -- their names weren't on the ballot. It would have been another way to abuse them and otherwise pointless, so they sat out on something both had thoroughly expected to be more or less in charge of. Tyrone's answer was, "You don't need that stuff. Concentrate on what is real. That crap is like a birthday party -- when it's over, you're not famous anymore." Cindy's Momma, Elaine, overheard this advice and came back to her later, when they were alone, with a favorable opinion of it. "Tyrone has both his feet on the ground -- he's going somewhere. You listen to him, Hon," Elaine advised. Daddy wasn't as thrilled and Cindy just KNEW he was up to something, but Momma said, "I can nail your father's feet to the floor -- never fear..." Momma tended to drool a little around Tyrone, anyway, but she was careful about it. "Your father wouldn't tolerate it if he caught me, DESPITE the things he does with Antoine..." ---------------------------------- Antoine was Hobart Simpson's driver/mechanic -- and boy toy. Tyrone had wandered out to get the skinny from him on Wednesday after he and Cindy had done their homework -- and he'd done Cindy. Antoine was Haitian and slightly built, with long dreadlocks that looked odd under a chauffer's cap -- but then, he seldom drove. "I see you," Antoine had kicked things off. "You got both them women sniffing dick. That's fine -- it keeps them off me..." Antoine was a gay bottom and happy with his position. "This is easy shit. Old Hobart wants to play white massah and fuck little black boys. He ain't got much, but it's enough to be fun. I play, I change the oil on the cars, and I fuck off -- and when I need a REAL dick, I go out. I ain't fuckin' this up by gettin' into it with the women. Miz Elaine has the goods on old Hobart, anyway, you know? I know she does -- I found the camera. If I start some shit, I'm out of here and have to find a job where I work for a living. You ride the women and I'll keep old Hobart happy and we'll be one big, happy family. Some advice, though -- since the video came out, old Hobart has had the hots for the young one. You might want to cover your ass by letting him get a piece -- and getting some evidence. She might like to get herself covered that way, too. Old Hobart, he's looking for a way to ease you out, you know -- you want to be prepared..." Tyrone thanked Antoine for his sage advice and counted him as an ally. There had been one other thing: "If you know some REAL white dick -- hot stuff, young -- let me know," Antoine had muttered. "I'm about due for a dose of the good shit -- and the bar scene around here sucks. If you were to turn something up, I might be able to help set old Hobart up for you, as long as it don't upset the gravy train..." Tyrone had nothing, of course -- but he'd promised to ask around... And THAT led to an interview with Little Nicky on Friday morning. "Hey, uh, Nick -- got a minute?" Now, Nicky had no reason in the world to ever be seen in the same room with Tyrone, so he was cautious -- fearful, even. "Yes?" "Look, uh," Tyrone looked around. "This is kinda delicate. Can we, like, step off somewhere?" Nicky decided that he was probably not in any physical danger, so he agreed, "Okay." Tyrone led them to a quiet corner near a stairwell. "You, uh, put out certain vibes," Tyrone began. "I know a guy who, uh, puts out those same vibes, you know? Not me -- I'm into girls -- but I'm looking to do a guy a favor." That pretty much clarified things for Nicky, but it didn't mean he wasn't required to be cautious -- especially since he and Eddie Ray were going to be out with Lucy that very evening! "Well, I uh, think I know where you're headed, but you know I can't really get into admitting anything like that." "Yeah, cool, I know it's delicate. Look, this guy -- he's black -- but he likes white guys. Big ones, you know? He's looking for a white guy who would, um, be on top, I guess -- and maybe be a little nasty about it." A name popped into Nicky's head immediately, but it wasn't like he could blurt it out. "I'll ask around. Is there a rush?" "No, no rush. It's a favor. The guy probably doesn't expect me to come through for him, but I want something and he wants something and I'm trying to do a deal." "Okay, let me see what I can do." Nicky, much more confident, ended the conversation -- and made a beeline for Toby. "Hey, has Vince been around, looking for anything?" he asked. Toby frowned. "Why?" "Tyrone Baker came to me and asked some real strange questions. He said he owed a guy a favor -- a black guy. He was real careful about it, but he came to me because he's pretty sure I'm gay. This black guy is, too -- but he's looking to hook up with a white guy -- a hunk. And he's a bottom, so he's looking to be topped." Toby sighed. "This is WAY more than I want to know. Why come to me?" "I don't want Vince to get any ideas," Nicky replied. "I'm with Eddie Ray -- and Lucy. I'm not sure how Vince feels about things since he and Eddie Ray broke up. Besides, I figure he would come to you." "Well, he hasn't," Toby replied. "Tyrone, huh? We owe Tyrone a favor, maybe. Thanks." He sent Nicky on his way. ---------------------------------- Martin wanted the team to win Homecoming, so he held a thirty minute strategy session with the team just before the last period pep rally. "Against Waynesboro, defense is key," he emphasized. "They're known for their blitz and their aggressive ground game. If we go to the air, we HAVE to be effective -- and we have to mix things up, particularly on the ground, to keep them from picking targets and beating them into the ground the way they did Ben last year. In fact, I don't plan to go to Ben at all during the first possession; Ben, your job will be mere survival out there until they realize that they're wasting their time. Clint, you and Ray will run the ground game. Watch out, everybody -- the Marauders are not above unsportsmanlike conduct. If they think taking you out will bag them the game, they'll come for you. Sure, it's dirty, and maybe they'll get called for it, but meanwhile, you'll be busted up! It seems to happen about once a game, so expect it. Of course, while we're playing it safe, they'll take advantage of us, but it's a price you end up paying, one way or the other." Martin looked around. "We've been concentrating on our weaknesses, and hopefully the word has gotten out -- which will allow us to go to our strengths tonight against the Marauders. Tad, you'll run your ground game and keep the passes short; Damian, we'll be looking for breakouts. Vince, the line MUST stop the Marauder offense or it will be a high-scoring game and we'll have to work hard to keep up. Questions?" There were none. "Okay, let's make sure we have something to celebrate, after!" Vince tapped Terence on the way out. "I've been watching videos and there is a hole on the center's left. They open it up and stand there and it's a favorite place for their linebackers to punch through. I can't get to it -- but you and Eddie Ray can." "Yeah, no sweat," Terence nodded. "Thanks." "I haven't had much else to do lately," Vince retorted. "How's your old man?" "I think he and Mama are on the mend," Terence replied, looking uncomfortable, "but I'm not sure what that means, exactly." Vince nodded. "Okay." Toby overheard, sighed, and headed over to Vince. "I got a strange request. It might be up your alley. Come see me when you can." "Okay." Vince headed off. Everybody headed off to make their last-minute preparations for the game and Toby went to his car and punched into IM using his laptop and a wireless connection that allowed him to remotely control the shielded machine in his control room. Tyrone was online, so Toby hit him up: Rooter93: Got a rumor you need a favor. Tyrone blinked at the screen. 'Already?' He started typing. Rondo06: Word travels fast. Rooter93: Some parts of the grapevine are electronic. Got any details? Rondo06: I need to lock things down. I can get help if I provide something. Rooter93: What do u need? Rondo06: A white guy. Husky. Into guys, but from on top. Someone who would get off on ridin' a black dude. Rooter93: Might have something. How urgent? Rondo06: Hard to say. The guy probably doesn't expect much but I want to lock down the other end. More urgent to me than to him, I think. Rooter93: On you, then. Got one -- don't really want to out him to you, but he's probably perfect. Available as early as after the game, but that's cutting it close. Can provide site for hookup. Rondo06: No shit? You guys are world class! Rooter93: Might need future favor similar to the one that got you your bitch. This would be top secret -- not like last time. This one to be punished and broken. Your party just one piece of the action. Rondo06: Can do easy. Rooter93: Gotta go. On text @ (Toby relayed the number of a throwaway phone) until after game. Let us know. Rondo06: OK Toby called Abigail. "Abby, we might have another strange one, as early as tonight." "Oh?" "It'll be two gays -- non-members. Come to think of it, one's a member, but he isn't inner circle by any means. We just give them a place to play." "Yeah, that's different," Abigail mused. "Why are we bothering?" "We owe a couple of favors. One is probably an advance payment for The Bitch." "Give them a Dark Room?" "Regular, I think," Toby replied. "They might want to play in the dungeon, though -- you can ask." "Okay." "I'll let you know if it looks like it's going to happen. Are we ready for tonight?" "Yes," Abigail confirmed. "We're expecting a mixed bag, probably after the dance. Non-members on the first floor, members on two or three. Nothing fancy, just giving them a place to bring their dates, right?" "Right. Just, um, hoteling. Tomorrow, around eight, I'd like Jiang Yi to do a brunch buffet until noon for late sleepers and anybody who wants to come and hang out. Have you spoken to her?" "Yes. She just wanted to know if she had to go naked. I said no." Toby grinned. "That's right. This isn't an after-game party. It's BYOD -- 'Bring Your Own Date'." "Okay, no problem." ---------------------------------- Tyrone was taking Cindy to the dance, but he wasn't going to the game -- well, he WAS going since he figured it would be a good idea if he was there to support Cindy while she was cheerleading, but that would be at game time, not right after school -- so he drove out to the Simpson estate and stopped in on Antoine. The place looked deserted, but Antoine answered the door at the carriage house. The Simpsons had a carriage house that housed Hobart's sports car collection -- and Antoine. "Where is everybody?" "Old Hobart is out of town. I think Cindy's momma is fucking with her party dress or something," Antoine supplied. "Hey, I got a line on something." Antoine blinked in surprise. "You're fast, Man." "I know people who know people. I don't know the guy, because they don't want to out him for nothing, but they say he can do what you're looking for." Antoine eyed him. "Sounds like a pig in a poke." "Lemme try something." Tyrone got out his phone and sent a text, 'The guy wants to know what he's looking at.' Toby, who was in the locker room, preparing equipment, almost threw the phone against the wall -- but he had an idea. 'Call Nicky,' he texted back -- and provided Nicky's phone number. 'Okay,' Tyrone mused to himself -- and dialed the number... "Hello?" Nicky answered cautiously. "Nicky? Tyrone. You talked to somebody about our conversation, right?" "Yes." "I got a response -- but they're being cagey. I can't give my guy nothing because I know nothing -- and he's nervous. My contact said call you," Tyrone explained. "Okay. You would know the guy -- but he won't. Pass him the phone and I'll describe him." "Cool." Tyrone passed Antoine the phone. "Hello?" "Hi. I hear you want to know about the guy." "Yes." "What are you looking for? Just to confirm..." Nicky asked. Antoine stepped away. "Okay, look, can I talk the talk?" "Yeah. I'm a bottom," Nicky replied. "Okay," Antoine sighed, relieved. "I'm a bottom, twenty-three, from Haiti. I like white guys -- tops -- and I'm into playing the whole slave thing, so I want a big guy who can put it over." "Wow! This guy is PERFECT!" Nicky bubbled. "He's HUGE -- does wrestling, football -- blonde, crew-cut, DEFINITELY prejudiced, but he plays with blacks. He'd get off on riding hard on a black bottom!" "How old?" "Eighteen." "FUCK!" Antoine's hands shook. "Can you call him?" "I'll hunt him down," Nicky promised. "He's playing football tonight." "Shit! I can't wait!" "Well, it's Homecoming, but he won't be going to the dance. No date, you know? There's nothing there for him..." Nicky murmured. "Yeah, he can't go shoppin' there, can he?" Antoine replied. "You done him?" "Yeah. He can be rough." "FUCK!" Antoine hissed. "Thanks, Man." "Sure..." Nicky hung up, uncertain what he'd organized. Antoine turned to Tyrone. "He's fuckin' PERFECT! How soon can you hook us up? You do this and I'll give you old Hobart in fuckin' living color -- and if you want, I'll help set up the deal with Cindy. I'm guessing she wants the old man's nuts on a plate..." Tyrone nodded. "For me, if nothing else. I'll check..." He sent the text, 'It's on, ASAP. How soon?' Toby eyed his phone, aggravated. Well, he'd started it. 'brb,' he texted, then went hunting for Vince. Vince wasn't EVEN hard to find -- he was taping up and getting into his gear -- early, but he had nothing better to do and he liked to be comfortable in it when he went out to play. "Vince, got a minute?" "Yah." Vince followed Toby to the equipment cage. "This thing has gelled," Toby related. "The guy wants to see you ASAP." Vince pursed his lips. "Any details?" "I don't really want to discuss it. Nicky's talked to him. Call Nicky." Toby handed him the phone with Nicky's number up. "Don't worry about a place -- we can hook you up. Bring me the phone when you're done." He walked out of the cage. Vince poked the phone and Nicky answered his phone for the second time in ten minutes. "Hello?" "Nicky? Vince. You talked to this guy?" Nicky looked at the phone like it had bit him. "Yes. He's black. Early twenties. He's looking for... well, you, from what I can tell. You can do the whole white master black slave thing with him." "Nicky, if you're shitting me..." "I only know what I heard on the phone!" Nicky yelped. "But he was hot to meet you once I described you!" "Did you out me?" Vince hissed. "No names. He isn't in school, you know? He wouldn't know you." "Yeah, okay." Vince was mollified, but still truculent. "I think it's genuine, Vince -- I really do!" Nicky asserted. "Okay. You know I'll either thank you or Eddie Ray is gonna need to work to keep me from breaking your legs, right?" "Uh huh!" "Okay. See you later." Vince hung up and took the phone back to Toby. "Nicky swears it's cool and the guy is perfect." "It's all sight unseen," Toby replied. "Hang on." He took the phone and dialed Tyrone's number. Tyrone jumped a foot when the phone rang. "Put him on," a muffled voice directed. Tyrone handed Antoine the phone. Toby handed his to Vince. "Talk shit," he advised. "Hello?" Antoine ventured. "I hear you want the living dog shit fucked out of you -- that right?" a gruff voice asked. "FUCK!" Antoine gasped. "That a yes or a no?" Vince asked. "That's... a yes," Antoine gasped, recovering somewhat. "I told Little Nicky that I'd break his leg if this was a screw job!" Vince warned truculently. "It isn't!" "So tell me about you..." "I'm black. I hear that might... prejudice you -- which is okay. I'll do whatever..." "Damned straight you will! I'll turn your black ass into a pretzel if you don't!" Vince was grinning into the phone, though. "I'm twenty-three, and five feet ten..." "You like being a bitch?" "Yeah. I generally do it for an old guy who likes to do the white master thing -- but he's a pussy. I need a taste of the real thing." "Fuck -- THAT I can supply!" Vince retorted. "I hear you're playing ball tonight," Antoine ventured. "Can I watch?" "You hear too fucking much for MY comfort," Vince rumbled, glaring at Toby, "but I imagine that if you can buy a ticket, you can watch. No doubt some big mouth can tell you which game." "I hear you don't have a date for after..." Antoine ventured. "You volunteering? Can't take you to the dance. Even if you look good in a dress, you're black -- and I have a reputation to maintain. But we could go somewhere quiet and you could show me how you suck a dick, I guess..." Vince blustered. He was enjoying himself -- hugely. "That'd be nice..." Vince covered the mouthpiece. "How do we do this?" Toby sighed. "Give me a minute..." He reached for his regular cell. "Abigail?" "Toby?" "Can you do a van pickup, right after the game?" "Yes. Can I pick up Janice in the process? She'll need to change..." "Yeah. She can ride up front. Our two guys are on for tonight. Pick them up in the parking lot and get them settled. After that, you should have plenty of time to take Janice back..." "Mark will be picking her up," Abigail replied. "Perfect. You'll have to deliver them back at some point, but we'll work something out." He turned to Vince. "Meet the white van in the parking lot after the game. Just get in the back." "Okay." Vince unmuted the phone. "Since you're coming to the game, we'll meet after. There will be a white van in the parking lot. It'll take us somewhere we can hang out and do whatever I feel like undisturbed. Got that?" "Yes!" Antoine replied, excited. "I'll see you then. You'd better be worth looking at!" Vince hung up. "Toby..." "Don't." Toby waved him off. "I'd appreciate it if you'd handle your own sex life, when you can. But I will tell you this -- the new clubhouse has facilities available to support you. You're a member -- we've got video of you, remember -- so you can use the second floor and the steam room and the sauna and the Jacuzzi and the pool as long as you follow the rules." Vince nodded. "That's good and bad, I guess, huh? How many people know?" "Not many. Even if you go up to the second floor where the members hang out to play, we didn't advertize -- most know nothing, and those who DO know won't give you any shit and will try to help. There are things you can do up there that are pretty anonymous. Ask Abby when she picks you up." "Okay." Vince shuffled off. Toby went outside to take a break. Amy was there, in the stands, watching the cheerleaders run through a final practice. Sensing his frustration, she linked in and let him pour it out. <Gays and lesbians need love, too, Sweetheart.> <Why does it all have to funnel through me?> Toby whined. <Nicky might tell a girl his troubles, but Vince? Face it -- we asked for this.> <Yeah.> Toby let Amy cuddle him and tried to bleed off his frustration. ---------------------------------- Kelly Samuels was relaxing in a bubble bath when Bethany Blaisdale called her cell. "Hey, Kelly -- want to go out? We can get some dinner and watch the losers for a while... Maybe do a little something with that dong of yours after..." "Gee, Beth, I'm, well, kind of tired. I had a late night last night..." "We could stay in, then -- order a pizza and have a little quiet time up in your room?" Bethany and Kelly got together regularly -- and a little girl-girl action was a regular feature. Kelly had a couple of dildoes and Bethany had a couple of vibrators and for a big girl who had no shot at a boy and a girl who was soured on them, it generally made for a fairly good evening... "Jeez, Beth, I'd love to -- but I'm a little sore..." Kelly replied. "Oh? Did you party with someone last night? I didn't know there was anyone else..." Mild jealousy filtered over the connection. "It's a new thing..." Kelly related. "What happened?" Kelly smiled crookedly. "My new boyfriend fucked me bowlegged." "Your WHAT?" Bethany exploded. "My new boyfriend. Oh, I'm still domesticating him, and it might not take, but we've been together three times since last weekend..." "Who is he? Where did you meet him? He'll hurt you, Kelly! Men are pigs!" Bethany exploded. "Um, it turns out that my sister knows some people who hooked me up," Kelly told her. "As to who he is, it's a secret -- but I was thinking that you might like to meet him tomorrow night..." "Would I!" Bethany replied, thinking, 'I'll strip off his mask so Kelly can see the trouble she's getting into -- I can't let her get hurt!' Underlying that, of course, was a layer of jealousy and hatred for anyone who would try to steal her girlfriend... "Okay, I'll set it up." Kelly paused for a moment. "Beth, Honey, I know you had a bad time of it, but sex with boys is actually..." "I don't want to hear about it!" Bethany snarled. "Whatever he's doing I can do better!" Kelly grimaced. This could get ugly -- VERY ugly! She was going to have to be careful... "Okay. Let's talk about this tomorrow, after you meet him, okay?" "Sure. That's fine." Bethany was surly. "Come on, Sweetie. It'll be all right," Kelly soothed. "I'll call you around five, okay?" "Okay. I'll call YOU at five fifteen!" Bethany threatened. "Don't worry. Talk to you then..." <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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