Chapter 11

That triggered another break; Damian pointed out the sodas and the guys settled onto the furniture to relax and recharge. Clint's arrival was noted and passed off with the excuse, "I had to take care of something first." Nobody questioned it.

Toby turned Brenda loose and sent her and Bonita down to Booth One to take a break, asking them what they would like to drink. Lon chose that moment to come down, and hung out with the guys for a bit before checking on Sally.

Damian turned to Hank, "You don't have to just hang out, Man -- you can have any of them you want -- except Sally, maybe -- and she's giving head..."

Hank nodded. "Yeah. I don't really know why I haven't jumped in..."

Damian grinned. "Maybe you're waitin' for older shit?"

Hank eyed him. "Maybe."

Damian looked at his fingernails. "Candace stepped in it a while ago -- I tightened her ass up. She'll probably be lookin' for some TLC."

Hank grimaced. "I don't bat cleanup. If you started with her, you should run her tonight. I don't want her thinking I'm going to fix things after you do your thing with her."

Damian eyed Hank in surprise, "Look, Man, I didn't mean..."

Hank waved a hand. "It's not about that. It's about the fact that we handle her differently. I don't want to mix my game with your game in her head. If she screwed up, drag her down here and let her pull a train or something -- I'll fuck something else. In a couple of days, when she wants to play the game we play again..."

Damian eyed him. "You're sure..."

"Man, she likes being roughed up as much as she likes the other thing -- we're just handling both ends, you know?" Hank replied, grinning. "I just can't be in on both ends."

"Cool," Damian nodded. "Well, like I said, you can get anything you want here, except Sally -- and Lon has her giving head. In particular, if you want a piece of Alyssa, just go get it."

Hank nodded. "Maybe I will..." But he didn't move.

Upstairs, the subject of conversation was on the toilet, thoroughly miserable. The combination of the liquid and the carbonation left Candace scared to death that she was going to explode and have to be taken to the emergency room to have her insides reconstructed! "Oh, God!" she moaned under her breath as another jagged gas pain ripped through her abused bowels. "I'm gonna die on the toilet!"

Toby's phone rang at that point. It was Alonzo. "Hey, Man, are you guys still doin' shit?"

"Yeah..."

"Any chance you could come get me?"

"Hang on..." Toby waved Randy over. "When are you heading out? Alonzo wants to play."

Randy looked at his watch. "Pretty quick, I guess. Where does he want to meet?"

"Hey, Randy can get you," Toby told Alonzo. "Where?"

"Around school, I guess. I live up in the North End, but I can walk down or whatever."

"No need to go that far," Toby told him. "Hang on." Turning to Randy he asked, "Where are you picking up Jiang Yi?"

"The restaurant, now," Randy replied.

"So if I tell Alonzo Hardesty and Stanton..."

"Cool."

"Alonzo, Hardesty and Stanton -- fifteen minutes. Will that fly?" Toby asked.

"Yeah, way cool!"

"Okay. See you when you get here." Toby hung up.

"Time to go, looks like," Randy muttered, and headed for the door.

Jean's phone rang. "Hello?"

"Jean, it's Martin. Are you busy?"

"Well, no..."

"It's been a tough week and I need to wind down. How about dinner -- and maybe a movie?"

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

"Is that all?"

"Certainly." That Jean was gun-shy was a given; Martin wanted her in his bed, but he would wait until she crawled in it on her own.

"Well, okay," Jean agreed. "Where?"

Martin named an Italian chain restaurant. "No need to dress to the nines -- we can go casual -- and on to the movie the same way. How soon can you be ready?"

"Better give me a half-hour," Jean replied. "I can't just throw on a sport shirt and rub deodorant under my armpits!"

"Well, you COULD," Martin chuckled.

"Well, I WON'T! Now hang up, so I can get ready, or we'll miss the nine o'clock show!" Jean retorted.

"Fine. I'll see you in thirty minutes." Martin hung up and went to freshen his shave, whistling.

"Why are you always so mean to me?" Jiang Yi whined as Randy pulled to a stop before her in the restaurant parking lot. She had four grocery bags full of food at her feet.

Randy waved at Alonzo and got out to open the back doors, "Because you love it," he replied evenly. "You don't respect any guy who doesn't threaten to rip your lips off."

Alonzo grabbed two bags and Jiang Yi took the other two. "That's not true!" Jiang Yi protested, halting at the back doors.

"Liar." Randy grabbed her neck and urged her inside the van. Turning to Alonzo, he said, "What do you think?"

'Well, it's pussy...' Alonzo thought. You didn't get picky and pass that shit up -- even if it was some older, chunky, flat-faced Oriental chick. He shrugged. "Okay..."

Randy nodded him into the back of the van. "Okay, Slut, I'm closing the doors. When I open them, Alonzo's dick had better be in one of your holes or you better have cum all over you -- you got me?"

Jiang Yi put her hands on her stocky hips. "Randy..."

"Get out of those clothes! Now!" He reached for her blouse.

"Okay, okay!" Jiang Yi jumped back to keep him from shredding something. "Always so hostile!"

Randy shifted his attention to Alonzo. "Get the picture?"

"Yeah, I think so," Alonzo eyed Jiang Yi. From the sound of things, Randy expected him to all but rape the bitch...

"Make sure she gets naked and stick your dick in whatever hole is closest when she's done," Randy clarified. "If you get the one that squawks all the time, you'll be doing us BOTH a favor!" His gaze swept back to Jiang Yi. "You're still dressed! Want me to come in there?"

"No, no!" Jiang Yi hauled her top over her head. Randy stood there until her bra followed, then closed the doors and headed for the cab. In a moment, the van started and Randy's voice came over the intercom. "I don't hear any fucking!"

Jiang Yi, who had stopped undressing when the doors closed, rolled her eyes. Addressing Alonzo, she said, "Look, you don't..."

"Jiang Yi!" Randy barked. The van slammed to a halt. "Do you want me to come back there? Do you want to spend the night in the stocks?"

"Noooo..." Jiang Yi resumed undressing. "What would you like, then?" she asked Alonzo.

"Jeez, I dunno," Alonzo mumbled.

"Don't let her run shit," Randy warned, "She'll walk all over you if she can. She's here to fuck and suck -- and she knows it, don't you, Jiang Yi?" He paused. "Well?"

"Yes, Randy," Jiang Yi replied, resigned.

"Awright, then. Start fishing for cock!" Randy shut off the intercom.

The van started moving, nearly dumping Jiang Yi on her ass as she bent to step out of her stretch pants. "Wups!" Jiang Yi caught herself, nearly falling into the food bags. "Look, I know -- I'm not Miss America..."

"Lady, you talk a LOT!" Alonzo grunted. He had a handle on things, he figured. "Randy is right -- feeding you a dick does us ALL a favor!" He waved her over. "Get it out and suck on it and shut up, okay?"

Jiang Yi nodded and bent to her task.

There was a knock at the door. Frank checked himself in the bedroom mirror, then headed out front to open it.

"Hi." Adele stood there, looking embarrassed.

"Hi. C'mon in." Frank didn't bother to look for witnesses -- he'd hear about this or he wouldn't. "Pizza guy hasn't arrived -- want a beer?"

"No, that's okay..."

Frank turned to eye her. "You okay? I coulda gone to your place..."

"I'm just... nervous."

"Well, we been in the same bed before -- and I liked it, and I figure you did, too. Take it easy." Frank advised.

"Okay. I don't know why I'm all up in arms," Adele sighed.

"The up-side of being here is that I don't have to worry about that little vampire of yours latching onto me in my sleep!" Frank grinned.

Adele grinned back. "She's incorrigible!"

"Did she get that shit from her mama?" Frank teased.

"I guess you'll have to find out."

"Sounds like serious research," Frank retorted, pretending to be serious. "I'd better wait until the pizza guy is gone..." He eyed her. "You SURE you don't want a beer?"

"I'll take one, yes," Adele smiled.

"Be right back."

Adele had dressed pretty nicely -- a thin translucent blouse over a white halter, a just-above-the-knee skirt and low heels. Frank wasn't done to the nines, but he had a good shirt and slacks on. The pair settled on the couch to watch TV and await dinner -- and clothing got in the way almost immediately. Having Adele's big jugs right under his hand made Frank antsy -- and Adele wanted him there just as bad. "I dunno what we got all done up and uncomfortable for," Frank groused, "we ain't goin' more than forty feet..."

"Yeah..." Adele agreed absently. TV was a dud -- what she really wanted was for Frank to put on some porn and start pawing her. The thing she liked about Frank was the lack of pretense; this wasn't a date -- they were both there for a fuck -- pure old tension-relieving sex. Pretending otherwise was just putting obstacles in their way... "Let's get comfortable. Got anything with real sex in it to put on there?"

"As in porn?" Frank eyed her. "I didn't want to, you know, get all..."

"Frank, we're not dating, we're fucking," Adele replied standing up. "Help me out of this skirt." She fished at the zipper with shaking fingers.

"You'd be right," Frank mused, getting the side zipper of her skirt and then the button above it. "What about the pizza guy?"

"Fuck him," Adele blurted. "Well, not really, I guess -- but I don't want to wait on him to enjoy myself!" She came out of the blouse, then hauled the halter over her head and turned it around so she could unbutton the lower portion. Once it was clear, she put the blouse back on -- open -- and stepped out of her panties before settling back onto the couch. "Come out of those pants -- please? And if you've GOT porn, let's SEE it!"

Frank shucked to his jockey shorts and T-shirt, unable to complain about the turn of events. Digging in his DVD collection, he came up with one he considered pretty decent and put it in the player. When the doorbell rang five minutes later, Frank had one of Adele's big jugs in either hand and was wishing he had a third arm so he could maul her pussy, which was out of reach while she sucked his dick and tickled it with her tongue. On the TV, some redhead was moaning and groaning while she took it from both ends.

"Coming!" Frank yelled -- but he couldn't find the damned remote, so the sex sounds kept coming. After almost ten fruitless seconds, he stopped looking and hobbled toward the door, trying to get his boner back inside the open fly of his jockeys. "Yeah?" he asked opening the door and peering around from behind it.

"Pizza," the guy said. He was Middle Eastern, probably, but that could have meant anything as far as religion.

"One sec -- I'll go get the money. How much was it?" Frank asked.

"Twenty-two seventy."

Frank totally forgot himself as he stalked off toward the couch and his pants. Coming back with them in hand, he realized that the door was still hanging open, grimaced, and grunted, "Fuck it."

The guy was standing there waving the pizza box around, but Frank was trying to wrestle his wallet out of the back pocket of his pants. Adele cackled at him. Frank grinned back and grunted, "Don't just laugh at me, you silly bitch -- come get the pizza!" It was a dare...

...And they both knew it. Adele got up and with great dignity walked over and collected the pizza box from the guy, who gulped and goggled since her open blouse hid NOTHING, then turned away and swayed off, most of her ass showing below the blouse hem, just as her breasts and pussy had showed when she faced front.

"Here's your money." Frank shoved some bills at the guy.

"T--thanks..." The guy turned slowly and walked away, clearly dazed.

"I shoulda had you do that from scratch," Frank chuckled. "I coulda given him a newspaper instead of money and he wouldn't have known the difference!"

"Then I'd have had to tip him!" Adele replied.

"You didn't?" Frank laughed. "Maybe he would've had to tip YOU!"

Adele put the pizza box on the coffee table. "So now what?"

Frank cocked his head. "I think we need to fuck before the pizza gets cold."

"Me, too," Adele agreed. "Where do you want me?"

"Over the back of the couch?"

"Yeah..." Fifteen seconds later, they were fucking as wildly as the redhead on the TV screen.

"So how are things?" Jean asked Martin as they awaited their dinner. The waiter had come and gone with their drink orders.

Martin headed in a safe direction, "Busy, but rewarding. The boys have the team all stirred up; we're going to start the season like a house afire, and most of our opponents won't know what they're getting into."

Jean nodded. Football was important to him, she knew, but she'd hoped he would want to discuss other things. "And personally?"

Martin shrugged. "Nothing much. I can get sex when I want it..." He didn't SAY 'but it's just sex,' but he implied it. "And you?"

"Umm, much the same, I guess."

"How is Toby?"

"He's been very busy with your football thing..." Jean muttered. Martin pursed his lips and said nothing. That Toby was having his sexual needs fulfilled was a given; that Jean had not been in the supply chain was equally obvious.

"How is pregnancy?" Martin asked obliquely.

"About the way I remember it, thus far," Jean replied. He didn't have to reiterate that she was being a fool -- it was taken as a given.

Martin decided that they'd done enough, for now. "How is your other job -- the one that doesn't involve cleaning up after Hank and I?" They discussed her prospects for promotion and the perils of part-time employment -- lack of health insurance, for one. Everything seemed to point back, somehow, to the delicate issue of her condition. Martin managed to skirt the subject of maternity leave, somehow..."How is Rick?"

Jean smiled. "He and Teela are joined at the hip. I seldom see one without the other popping up. I wonder what Teela's father thinks of that."

Martin chuckled. "I gather that he's fully aware of her situation."

Jean nodded. "He's nice -- gentle, even. But he just isn't..."

"Your type?" Martin finished for her.

"Exactly."

The food was delivered, and conversation lapsed while they consumed it -- or, rather, it was limited to the quality of the food and drink. Martin paid, over Jean's feeble protests, and they got in Martin's car and headed for the theater. The silence weighed heavily upon them both. Martin thought he was opening his mouth to ask Jean which movie she wanted to see, but what came out was, "Do you want it?"

"Yes." Jean didn't ask what.

"Because it's a baby, or because it's his?"

"Because it's a baby. It's not the baby's fault I got stupid."

"Do you want help?" Martin asked.

"From Toby? I don't think that's fair."

"I don't either, but life isn't fair. What about from other sources?"

Her eyes shifted to him, "I can't ask -- and I can't pay."

"But I can give -- whatever you feel you can accept," Martin replied.

"Let's not talk about this any more."

Martin changed the subject to the one he'd thought he was initiating -- the movie selection. He had his answers, anyway -- and a course to follow.

They settled on a romantic comedy, and both of them enjoyed it -- but Jean's eyes drifted to Martin's profile often, and she hoped he didn't see her concern. There was no way she was going to let him volunteer to father her child by Toby -- none. That just wasn't fair to him. She would hold him off until the baby came -- he would go away after that of his own accord. As for Toby, she'd learned that she had been deluding herself; he was a boy -- oh, he was a man, but to force him into a mold at his age was to clip his wings. The baby in her belly was her problem -- and hers alone. Rick was as good as gone, his attention on his woman -- whom Jean approved of. The baby would provide her life with a new focus...

She waited until they were on her street before opening up, "Martin..."

"Yes?"

"Please don't... obligate me..."

He pulled into the driveway and parked, then turned to her. "What do you mean?"

"It would be unwise for you to offer me assistance, because..."

"Shut up."

"Martin..."

"The baby is irrelevant. Well, it isn't, totally, but it is a complication. I refuse to let it get in our way."

"But..."

He covered her mouth with his hand. "I SAID shut up!" She reached up to push his arm away, but it was like moving a steel I-beam. He just waited, patiently, while she struggled for a moment, then subsided. "We're dating," he told her. "The other subject is unrelated. It is a resolved issue relevant to the background of our relationship, but not central to it." He waited a moment, then released her, getting out and circling the car to open her door.

"I don't understand," she murmured, eyeing him from the seat.

He took her hand and lifted her from the car. "We are dating. You are with child. You have decided to keep it. I can either accept this as a condition of our relationship, or I can stop seeing you -- but that is MY decision, not yours. You don't have to go through all kinds of stupid gyrations to keep me from obligating myself in any way -- any man you meet has the same choice to make. Women with kids have this issue all the time -- the man wants her bad enough to accept the additional responsibility, or he doesn't." He led her up the walk. "Now, I'm angling for a goodnight kiss, minimum -- stop worrying about who is obligated to do what and decide if you owe me a kiss!"

"It's not the same!" Jean protested. "I can..."

"Stop it?" Martin pressed her back against the door. "You mean terminate the pregnancy. Can you? Really? It doesn't appear to me that you can -- or, at the very least, not and live with yourself, afterward. So, can you?"

"No." Jean looked away.

"Then it's a done deal," Martin insisted. "Where were we?"

Jean's head came up; her eyes locked on his. Suddenly, it was hard for her to breathe. Martin did this to her -- took control -- dominated her -- demanded a response... "You were going to... steal a kiss..."

"If I start stealing, I won't stop there," he replied, his eyes boring into hers. "You need to decide whether you're giving or I'm taking."

"Both," she gasped, and his lips descended on hers.

Randy ripped open the van's back doors, "Well?"

"Did you notice how quiet it got?" Alonzo chuckled. She's working on two." He was holding Jiang Yi's head in his lap.

"Not too hard, it looks like," Randy grunted.

"We've got time," Alonzo replied.

"Well, come on, then -- let's get this stuff inside." Randy grabbed a couple of bags.

Damian saw them coming. "Need anything?"

"Well, plates would be good," Jiang Yi said diffidently. "Napkins -- stuff like that."

Damian waved at Lon and headed for the stairs.

"Candace!"

"Oh, Gawd!" Candace was draped atop her bedspread on her belly, trying to recover from the agony of the impromptu enema. Damian found her before she could move much. "Please! No more! I think I might have died!"

Damian swatted her on the ass. "We need paper plates and napkins and stuff -- get your lazy ass up and bring them downstairs, or I'll find a two liter bottle!"

"I'm coming!" Candace struggled up. Lon was standing there in the doorway; she mouthed 'Help!' at her son -- who shook his head, grinning.

"Here." Damian tossed one of the silk half-hood masks that had become standard issue. "In case someone decides he wants to stick a dick in you."

Candace was beyond speech. Dully, she pulled the thing over her head and tied it off, then headed for the pantry to collect paper plates and plasticware.

Damian was gone, but Lon wasn't. "Why didn't you say something?" she whined. "There's no way..."

"I don't interfere between you and Damian," Lon replied, "and he doesn't fuck Sally without my permission. End of story. Hurry up, Mama -- you do NOT want to piss him off with a half-dozen other guys in the house!" Candace shut up and got moving.

Downstairs, the smell of Chinese food wafted everywhere; Jiang Yi presided over the spread on the coffee table nude -- without even a mask! Candace brought this to Damian's attention as diplomatically as she could after she dropped off the paper plates, napkins and flatware, "Isn't that a little risky?"

"If she keeps pissing Randy off, he's going to hand out her name and address and tell everybody to just go by and fuck her whenever they want!" Damian retorted.

"You wouldn't do that to me, would you?" she asked.

"Don't tempt me."

When the guys had all snatched up a plate of appetizers, Toby pulled the curtain and let the girls out, then had Jiang Yi and Candace take the spread into the curtained area for them to pick over. Toby stayed with them; the other group males filtered in and out to check on 'their' girls...

"What have you done?" Lon asked Sally.

"I gave blowjobs, Master. Two. To the same person."

"You're messy."

"He came quite a lot, Master. I was surprised."

Lon glanced around. More than one of the girls had apparently taken cum on the face, neck and chest. "Mama, I think you ought to go get a couple of washrags and a towel..."

Candace flicked a glance at Damian, who was standing there, got her confirmation, and left.

"Do we all have to hide?" Trish asked. "The booths get stuffy..."

The guys present glanced at one another. Toby took the lead. "Some of you are more or less anonymous -- just black chicks. Sorry, but that's how it is. Some of you run a lot more risk. Brenda's particular shape is hard to hide. Sonya would probably be easy to pick out at school. Less at risk would be Sally and Bonita, but..."

"You COULD be identified," Lon told Sally. "On the other hand, I'm not sure I have a problem with that." His grin had fangs. Sally sat there, wondering what it would be like to be outed like that -- would she be shunned? Would she have trouble with guys? There were limits to what a guy could get from her; Lon had seen to that... It was horrifying -- and titillating...

Randy eyed Trish. "Bobby will be hunting you -- but then, maybe you like that..." Trish said nothing -- she knew better.

Bonita sulked. "I want to be with Terence..."

Damian lit into her. "Maybe you think being hooked up with my brother changes things -- well, it doesn't. You STILL do what we tell you! If we tell you to go suck Mr. Armbruster's cock, you'd better come back wiping your mouth or we'd better hear about how you got suspended, understand?" Mr. Armbruster was the assistant principal at the high school -- and he was particularly unapproachable. "I dunno if Big Bro was serious, anyway..." Bonita looked like she was about to cry. "You aren't special -- Alyssa fucks who I tell her to fuck, Sally does the same for Lon..." Damian carefully avoided Trish -- Randy, well, he'd had his shot; if he fucked it up and Trish outed herself to Bobby, it wasn't as if Damian hadn't told him so...

Bonita eyed Damian with puppy-dog eyes. "This is for Terence to decide?"

Damian looked back, apparently unmoved. "Yeah. Definitely. Just because he said nice things to you while he had his dick in you doesn't mean you two are hooked up!"

Brenda sidled up to Toby. "What happened with Clint?" she asked quietly.

"I have a couple of guesses," Toby told her honestly. "I think he felt bad about what he did to you -- and the more you accepted it, the worse he felt."

"What's the other thing?" Brenda prompted.

"I think it has to do with some decisions about his sexuality that he hasn't made yet -- and maybe doesn't have to."

"I don't understand," Brenda muttered.

"I'm not really at liberty to discuss it, you know?" Toby told her. "Obviously, he has issues..."

"Yeah," Brenda nodded.

"They could be driving him to do things -- things we might not see as necessary."

"Should I do anything?" Brenda asked.

"Wait." Toby paused for a moment, then asked, "Why did you let him do that?"

"Let him? I was in that thing!"

"Bonita came to check on you and you sent her away..."

"I can't explain it -- it just felt -- well, not good, but... No, I just can't explain..." The more Brenda thought about it, the more confused she became. The spanking had hurt -- but it had also aroused her. It didn't make sense, but there it was...

Toby nodded. He didn't know why she'd reacted as she had, either -- only that she had. He backed out and headed for the main room -- and Clint. "How's it going?"

"I dunno. Fucked up." Clint frowned at the carpet. "Maybe I ought to go home."

"Maybe you ought to talk to people," Toby countered. "I don't think going home will help."

Clint shook his head. "I did a couple of things today -- and I'm not sure either of them was right."

Toby shrugged. "I'm not sure either of them was wrong. You seem to think the two things you did are mutually exclusive -- they're not. You didn't hurt anybody..."

"What about that girl?"

"She isn't hurt. Not as in injured. In fact, you showed her something about herself. Do you want to talk to her? She's not EVEN mad..." Toby insisted.

"That's weird."

"Well, I wouldn't suggest doing that kind of thing to just anybody, but I've learned that some girls actually get off on it."

"I don't like my reasons," Clint grunted.

"Maybe that's a good thing, too. Maybe -- I don't know -- maybe you're beginning to see that something you though was a general thing only applies to some people," Toby ventured.

"Maybe." 'Does that help?' Clint wondered.

"Maybe some people deserve an ass-whipping. Maybe SHE thinks SHE does -- not for the reason you gave it to her, but for another reason. You know, it may not matter why -- if both of you got something out of it, maybe that's enough."

"I dunno. I just don't have shit sorted out," Clint sighed.

"And you won't, tonight, Man," Toby told him. "Maybe you're right -- you should go home and think about things." Then inspiration struck. "Let me see if Terence is busy..." He headed off before Clint could protest.

"Hey, Terence, you busy?" Toby asked Terence, who had just gone behind the curtain to see what the girls were up to.

"No, why?" Terence asked. Bonita had made a beeline for him as soon as he was visible and was trying to tuck herself under his arm -- and he was letting her.

Clint needs a ride home -- and maybe someone to talk to," Toby told him.

"He's strung out?"

"Yeah, some," Toby nodded.

"Can I go too?" Bonita wheedled, "Please?"

Toby grimaced; this was a complication. But Terence said, "Yeah. Go put on whatever you came in -- no panties or bra, though." Bonita nodded and dashed off.

Toby watched her go, handing Terence his car keys. "She's all hung up on you. You need to push her off right away."

"Why?"

"You'll only hurt her if you string her along..."

"Who's stringing her along? I like her!" Terence insisted.

"Well, she's headed for infatuated," Toby warned.

Terence shrugged. "What's with Clint?"

"He has general issues with women -- I think his ma must be a real bitch. That gold-digger thing of his is related to it, I think. He lit into Brenda, and he feels bad because it's clear that she didn't deserve it -- in fact, she might be the first chick he ever met that didn't for sure..." Toby paused. "I'm guessing a lot. I've had some talks with him, and he was planning on passing up girls --and he doesn't really get the idea of middle ground."

"Well, he hasn't gone too far down that road," Terence opined -- then looked surprised as Toby looked away, guiltily. "Toby?"

"I can't talk about it," Toby told him. "You pointed him at me as someone who would guard is secrets. But it might be a good idea if you kind of touched on the delicate stuff."

Things started dropping into place. "Where was Clint when we first got here?" Terence asked.

Toby ignored him and walked away. Maybe he'd let slip more than he should have -- but he sure didn't have to confirm it!

Bonita came running back, her expression radiant, her soft round titties bouncing unfettered underneath her tank top. Terence had some idea now why Toby hadn't wanted her along. 'Well, shit happens,' he thought. He stuck his head through the curtain and waved at Clint, who came forward diffidently. "Come on, I'll run you home."

"Yeah, thanks, Man." Clint looked away.

"No sweat. What are friends for?" he waved Clint up the stairs.