Nate and Roland were out making the rounds. Roland kept his mouth shut until they'd made their first delivery; Nate was fuming pretty heavily without it. But as they pulled away, Roland opened up, "Awright, inquiring minds wanta know. What the fuck?"
"I got a case of diahhrea of the mouth, an' Nora had to get a look at Stella," Nate rasped.
"An' you couldn't keep it from happenin'?"
"No. I couldn't," Nate groused. "I know it makes me look whipped, and I'm gonna take anything she says or does out on her, but there are limits how far I can push her."
"Howcum?"
"It's complicated, an' the fact that she's the best damn thing ever happened to me is only one piece. Some a' the rest of it you're better off not knowin'." 'She's the big boss' daughter' didn't seem to be a good thing to let slip... "The good news is that if she needs an ass whuppin' I can do it."
"Well THAT's good, I guess," Roland allowed.
"It'll have to do, won't it?" Nate shook his head, disgusted.
"Hey, Randall," Erin McGrath murmured.
"Hey, Erin." 'What's she doing here?' Randall wondered. He and Jimmy had hung out after class, playing chess and discussing Darla Jean -- something Amy had participated in, too. Randall felt responsible for Darla Jean's troubles; if he hadn't pressed for an opportunity to have sex, the elaborate set-up of the previous weekend wouldn't have occurred, and Darla Jean would still be in the closet. Amy, however, was of a different opinion; she felt that they'd done Darla Jean a favor, and Darla Jean's current problems would blow over and eventually work to her benefit by making the shy girl more approachable.
Jimmy was in agreement. "Hey, Man, she needed it every bit as bad as you did! I wouldn't worry about it. This thing with Ted and Dwayne kind of confirms it!"
"I don't know why she..." Randall began.
"Rushed out and chased down Dwayne?" Amy tittered. "I do. It's the same reason you fell in the sack with Peggy! She was trying to get a comparison with her first time."
"I didn't exactly..."
"Okay, okay, Peggy stalked YOU! But YOU let it happen, and she'd have never done it except for the fact that she's tight with Darla Jean and heard good things!" Amy argued. "And another thing -- you're getting MORE favorable press from Peggy! The word's out, Man! You're a stud!"
Randall rolled his eyes. "As great as that sounds, I wish we'd kept the whole thing between ourselves."
"You had a chance, Man," Jimmy argued. "But you and Darla Jean got all adult about it and decided you should play the field, rather than hanging onto one another."
"Well..."
"Well, nothing, Man! If you're with one girl and it's absolutely great -- and don't tell me it wasn't! -- why look around?" Jimmy remonstrated.
"Yeah," Randall agreed. "Hindsight is twenty-twenty. But Darla Jean wanted to look around, too..."
"Well, she has," Amy simpered. "I don't think she's found better..."
"She got two, pretty quickly," Randall pointed out.
"And it was a two-for-one sale she'd have been better off missing out on," Amy replied. "Are you jealous because she's ahead of you? She's a girl -- it's a seller's market. All SHE has to do is be receptive..." She grinned. "Of course, with the reputation you're getting..."
"Shit, Amy!" Randall had complained -- but here stood Erin. Erin was a known quantity -- a card-carrying member of Bang Nation. Everybody knew it, even though things had long-since settled down, because she'd been one of -- if not THE -- first of Rob's conquests. Rob hadn't developed his current sophistication, and word had leaked quickly, leaving Erin a marked woman. Randall eyed her, clamping his lips on 'I thought you chased jocks, ' and settling for "What can I do for you?"
Erin was a mixed collection of features. Her face was somewhat pixyish under short blonde hair, with a cute nose -- but crooked teeth and a receding chin. Right now, she was kind of cute, but one look said she'd get homely as she aged. The bust line was nothing to write home about, not that Randall cared, particularly; in his opinion, Darla Jean had plenty, and Erin was competitive. But Erin managed to be bowlegged and pigeon-toed, and she was a total airhead... "Peggy says you're a pretty good tutor," she announced.
Randall found himself wondering how long she'd worked on that particular double-entendre -- or if it was even deliberate, for that matter. "Thanks. Maybe I should hire myself out."
The comeback left her dead in the water, "Uh, yeah. Jeez, what would you charge?"
Randall eyed her. "I guess it depends on the subject."
"Um. I was hoping I might take it out in trade..."
By now, Randall had a pretty good grip on what was up. "Oh?"
"Um, yeah, like Peggy did..." Erin blushed, solidifying things.
Randall didn't let her off the hook. "I didn't charge Peggy, so I guess she didn't pay me."
The blush got worse. "Oh, Man..." She turned away.
Randall took pity on her. "Do you really need tutoring?"
"Well, uh, maybe..."
"But that's not why you're here..."
"No."
Randall frowned. "Maybe I paid Peggy fifty bucks to tell people I'm a stud."
"No, I'm not buying that." Erin managed to get her eyes back onto his.
"Money well spent, then." Randall grinned. Erin grinned back, but it was tentative. This teasing... Randall sighed. "Let's go somewhere neutral and talk."
"Okay. Gino's?"
"All right." Randall led the way out.
In the parking lot, logistics raised itself as a subject. "Together, or separate?" Erin asked.
"Ummm, it'd be both reputation-saving and convenient if we went separately," Randall hazarded.
"Okay." Erin didn't bother to hide her disappointment, but Randall was right. Besides, it would give her a few minutes to ponder how things were going before things got deep. Randall's reactions were... convincing. He was confident, and he was acting like a guy who was getting laid often enough to have standards. Last week, things would probably have been different, but then last week, Randall hadn't made the cut... Now, SHE was asking HIM, and he was acting fully capable of saying 'No'...
At Gino's, the pair picked a booth that wasn't hidden, but WAS off the beaten path. Erin ordered a Coke, and Randall a Dr. Pepper, letting the waitress wander off before Erin nerved herself for the next pass. Randall beat her to it: "Why me?"
"I... need to know..."
"Know what?" Randall demanded.
"Okay." Erin gathered herself. "You know about Rob." It was a statement, not a question. Randall nodded confirmation. "Well, there have been a couple of others, not as good -- I'm still kind of hung up on Rob. I need to know if he was really THAT good..."
"Oh." Randall scratched his head. "I don't know if I'm competition."
"Well," Erin cocked her head, "this way we can both find out..."
"I have a lot to lose, here -- and very little to gain," Randall groused.
"Ummm, how about this?" Erin offered. "If it's not that good, I promise NEVER to tell ANYBODY, male or female?"
"How do I enforce that?"
"I'm sure there is something nasty you could spread about me..."
"Okay." This sure was weird; Randall would have never believed he'd be sitting there trying to talk a girl out of having sex with him... "So, are you in a hurry?"
"Well, my Mom doesn't get home until eight..."
That seemed to define not only when, but where, too... "Protection?"
"Um, rubbers?"
"Yeah."
"I don't have any."
Randall thought about chiding her for pushing such things without being fully prepared, but then he had second thoughts. He probably needed large ones, anyway, and she wouldn't know that. "I have some." He rubbed his face. "Now, then?"
"Umm, yeah."
"Okay." Randall dropped money on the table to cover the check, and the pair moved back out to the parking lot. "I'll follow you."
On the way to Erin's, Randall kept going over the situation again and again. What had happened? Why was he suddenly the gold standard for sex? Nothing made sense... When Erin pulled into her driveway, Randall parked on the street next door so as to make things less obvious, then snagged a couple of rubbers from his newly-acquired stash in the glove compartment. When he joined her on her front step, Erin turned, wordless, and unlocked the door, preceding him into the house and down the hall to what was obviously her bedroom. Erin closed the door, leaving Randall standing in the center of the room, wondering 'What next?' "So, you want to make out or something?" This was sooo... cold?
"Um, yeah. Sure." Erin came forward, close to Randall, then murmured, "Why don't you undress me?"
"Uh, sure." Randall started fumbling with Erin's blouse, a sleeveless, round-necked affair, while he added, "This is 'way too much like going to the doctor's office. We're going to need to get into it, or we're doomed..."
Erin raised her arms for Randall to lift the blouse, and spoke as her head cleared the neck, "Yeah, I know -- but there's no need to spend a week messing with romance when we REALLY want to know about sex. Once I'm naked and you're naked, I bet things will heat up." She turned around to allow Randall access to the clasp of her bra, and then leaned forward to let it drop off her shoulders. Turning back around, she licked her lips and murmured, "If things turn out to be good, we can always backtrack some on the romantic parts..."
Well, the tits were as advertised, Randall reflected, not huge but not bad. He knelt to work the snap of Erin's hip-huggers, unzipping them, then running into a surprising amount of trouble attempting to get them off her ass. 'C'mon, ' he thought to himself, 'it's not THAT big!' It wasn't, either, but the jeans were painted on, it seemed; Erin had to lend a hand. Finally, she stepped out of them and stood there in just a pair of red panties, which Randall made quick work of.
"Well?" Erin spun slowly, letting Randall take it all in, "This is it... What do you think?"
Randall eyed the package. Many things about it he already knew -- even the pair of dimples in Erin's lower back. The legs weren't showpieces; they were thin and bowed, and her knees were the largest parts. On the other hand, they weren't awful, either. Her butt looked okay, and the patch of fur on her mound was almost as blonde as the hair on her head. All in all, it wasn't Pamela Anderson, but it was more than sufficient to be arousing. Randall suspected that if he opened his mouth at this juncture, he'd screw something up, so he merely smiled and nodded, presenting his shirt cuffs so that Erin could start undressing him. She smiled and began getting him out of his shirt. When she had him fully unbuttoned, she stepped forward to push the fabric off his shoulders, smiling into his eyes as she sensed approval. Randall went for a short kiss, which she returned while divesting him of his T-shirt -- until passing it over his head broke the lip-lock.
Erin knelt to go to work on his pants, and Randall watched, bemused, reaching down to toy with her hair. Erin concentrated on what she was doing; there was a stiff cock behind that zipper, for sure, but how big it was wasn't certain... Peggy had more or less indicated that it was sizeable, but how big could it be? Rob had been a handful, but her other two experiences had been with wiener-sized dicks -- nothing incredible... Once his jeans were down, there was a sizeable tent in Randall's boxers, though. Erin pulled open the waistband and jerked them down, exposing herself to a shock! "Oh, my!"
Randall glanced down, bemused. "Something wrong?"
"It's huge!"
"Not really..."
"Well, it's the biggest I'VE ever seen! Are you sure it will fit?"
"Uhhh..." Erin had him, there. Peggy had had problems. "I've read that any woman can adapt, and this isn't REALLY a record-breaker..."
Erin wasn't convinced. The thing topped Rob's -- which was sizeable -- and almost made two of her other two conquests! "Well, we're gonna have to start easy, and I might need lube..."
"No problem. That's what foreplay is for..." Randall pulled her to her feet and into an embrace, starting another kiss. Time to get things out of the doctor's office and into the bedroom...
Erin was all for that! Where had Randall gotten so confident? She leaned in, accepting the invasion of his tongue and the hands drifting over her bare ass. Mmmmmmm, maybe she'd get wet this time, like with Rob?
'Confident' wouldn't have been Randall's description of himself; he was suffering from considerable performance anxiety. Direct comparisons with Rob Graham weren't something he expected to be a big winner at -- at least, not in THIS area. Erin was a tight-lipped kisser, whose tongue didn't follow his back into his mouth after he made a sally into hers, but that was okay... Her ass felt nice in his hands and her nipples poked his chest -- things appeared to be going fairly well... "Let's crash on the bed," he murmured, stepping back, "I need to get to work on that..." 'That' was Erin's furry little beaver; Randall cupped it in his hand.
"Oh! Okay!" Erin jumped a foot at the contact, but Randall seemed to know what he was doing... She backed onto the bed and Randall followed, resuming the attack on her pudenda with his right hand, rubbing her labia with three fingers while he lowered his lips to a stiff, pink nipple. "Ooooohhhh!" Nipple action and direct stimulation brought Erin's clit to its fully engorged state; Randall sure seemed to know what he was doing! So masterful!
Randall, however, was somewhere else entirely! How fast do you go when the girl seems willing to let you do anything you want? Was he rushing things? Would he mess things up if he kept moving quickly? Surely, Rob had gone to considerable warm-up -- did he need to, too, in the face of Erin's apparent urgency? His fingers found the little nub of her clit, but it was pretty dry down there, still. Could he afford to shift things to her opening for a bit to see if she was getting damp, or would that kill it for her? "How's that?"
"Oooohhh, God!" It was GREAT! Erin was excited like she hadn't been in a long time! This was a LOT better than masturbation!
"Well, let me know if you want anything..." Randall went back to the nipple he was working, slowly upping the pressure. He began gently chewing...
"Oh! Oh! OHH!" Erin thrashed.
"You okay?" Randall, withdrew his lips and teeth, worried.
"Uh HUH! Great!" Erin grabbed his head and urged him back into place. The nursing and teething at her nipples was causing intense flashes of sensation in her tender nubs that rippled outward to enhance Randall's efforts at her clit.
Encouraged, Randall used further abuse of Erin's nipple as cover while he checked for moisture at her opening. Finding a bit, he worked his middle finger into her vagina, searching for more. Erin was the soul of cooperation, bending her knees and spreading her legs until they were flat on the bed. "Oooohhhh! Nice!" Her hand wanted his giant cock, but the way he was oriented, she couldn't reach it.
Randall worked some of Erin's juices back up her slot to ease the friction at her clitoris, which brought an even more intense reaction. Could he find a way to work both ends at once? Yeah. His thumb could ride her clitoris while his middle finger plumbed her channel. That worked, although he had to pay close attention so as not to just use one point of contact to support the other. Good thing, too -- she seemed pretty tight...
Erin was amazed -- where did he come up with these things? Randall supplied one wild sensation after another... She lay there, motionless, cataloguing the sensations...
... Which bothered Randall no end! Erin was moaning occasionally, and making the odd exclamation, but in the main, she was just breathing hoarsely through her nose. How excited WAS she? When should he move on? Well, her vaginal opening had dilated a bit, at least... Randall extracted his middle finger and replaced it with his ring finger, moistening it for a few seconds before working them both in. Erin moaned, "Oooooohhhh..." Well, THAT seemed okay. Three fingers shouldn't be required; he'd give her a couple of minutes of this and just go for it...
TWO FINGERS! That was SOOOO GOOD! Erin lay there, clenching and unclenching her fists, her face a rictus. God! She might even cum! Better hold still, so as not to joggle Randall's elbow...
Randall raised up to check on his play partner. From the look on her face, either she was loving it, or she was hating it -- but which wasn't clear... "How does that feel?"
"G-good! REAL good!" Erin got out.
Relieved, Randall asked, "Should I go on?"
"Uh huh."
Randall had had the foresight to fish the rubbers out of his pants and toss them on the bed; now he snatched one and tried to figure out how he was going to put it on while keeping her going. "Here, open this, will ya?"
Erin, glassy-eyed, snatched the rubber and started to work at the cover. Randall got up on his knees and reached across Erin to get at her left breast, ignored until now, twisting and tugging the nipple in an effort to keep her going while bringing his erection to her to mount the prophylactic on. This worked fine for Erin; the fingers weren't teeth, but were capable of considerable pressure, and she could finally get at that cock...
Either Erin was clumsy, or rubbers weren't fun -- or both! Randall gritted his teeth and hoped he wouldn't lose his erection while Erin rolled the damned thing on. Darla Jean and Peggy had spoiled him; neither of them had bothered with one, even though Darla Jean was unprotected. Well, maybe it would keep him from ejaculating too fast...
Erin didn't like the change in texture -- you couldn't jack a cock properly when it wore one. But she wasn't on birth control, soo... "Okay!"
Randall slid between Erin's splayed legs and began attempting insertion -- which wasn't easy, since Erin only got so wet. Mildly damp was more descriptive, and lubricated or not, a condom isn't any too slippery. But he made headway, and inch at a time; in a bit, back out to spread lubrication, in a bit more... Finally, after a minute and a half or so of abortive short-stroke activity, he was seated.
Erin was amazed that she took it all! She felt very full. Thus far, however, irritation of her membranes vied with pleasure; things weren't any too amazing. Maybe she should stick to little dicks? But soon Randall started moving with more authority, and she started loosening up; things went from marginal to very, very good in about ten seconds! Unfortunately, they hung there...
Randall set up a nice steady stroke and awaited results. The rubber attenuated things to the point that an immediate orgasm wasn't in the cards, so he shifted gears, testing his control -- a little higher, a little lower, faster, slower, long stroke, short stroke... Fairly quickly, it became apparent that no matter what he did, Erin was just going to lie there breathing funny and moaning periodically. Nothing seemed to impress her...
Actually, Erin was thrilled to death! Randall's cock felt wonderful, sawing in and out of her; it provided rich sensation -- but getting Erin to orgasm historically required several minutes' worth of dancing fingers on her clit. Had the insertion been easy at all, Randall might have succeeded in the first few moments, while the penetration was new and the clitoral stimulation he'd done before had her set up; a few good bangs to her clit, and she might have blown. But things hadn't gone that way, so now Erin was happy, but nowhere near an orgasm. Instead, she held herself still in order to keep things coming continuously and to provide a stable platform for Randall to try things on.
Randall was young and energetic, but he wasn't the Energizer Bunny! The rubber and the fight to get into Erin had attenuated things for him past the early urge to ejaculate prematurely that he had experienced with his previous two partners, and performance anxiety ladled atop a lengthy bout of continuous exercise was resulting in serious frustration! Erin's vagina had loosened up to the point that movement was almost frictionless -- which wasn't really a good thing -- and she just lay there, stiffening and relaxing at intervals, but otherwise not volunteering any effort or even advice on how to get her going. If Rob had managed to bring her to orgasm, he was a better man than Randall!
Actually, Randall had exceeded Rob's capabilities at the time of his conquest of Erin during foreplay; Erin had been one of Rob's first conquests, and he hadn't objectively done that well with her. Experience had honed Rob's skills quite a bit, but at the rate he was going, Randall would be objectively the better lover, in time. Randall was already MUCH better than Rob had been at the time he bedded Erin... Erin wasn't vocal, though, and Randall didn't know; certainly, nothing that she'd done or said was confidence-building. Randall tried deliberately bashing Erin's clitoris again, something he could only keep up for about a minute or so at a time...
Erin LOVED that! It was great! It was the best thing Randall did! But she needed him to go twice as long before she could get over the top...
Randall throttled back, exhausted, and stared failure in the face. Erin had gotten so loose, and she just laid there like a log... Nothing seemed to faze her, although she'd started to get red in the face a moment ago... What else could he do? She was too short to kiss, and didn't seem to be inclined. His position over her didn't allow for playing with her nipples again; he could raise up, maybe, but he didn't know if he could go on in an upright position. Schooling himself to keep from snarling, he asked, "How am I doing?"
"Oh, great!" Erin effused. "Wonderful! I love it!"
Was she jerking his chain? "You don't seem to have cum..."
"Noooo... I never have, this way, actually..."
"No?" What the fuck was he doing here, then?
"Uh uh. I generally have to beat the Hell out of my clit..."
Damn! There was NO WAY he could get at her clitoris! "Uh, maybe you should diddle yourself, then..."
"Oh! That's not right, is it?"
"Well, I read somewhere that some women just can't orgasm without clitoral stimulation." The look on Erin's face said, 'Am I a freak?' so he added, "A large percentage, actually. Why don't you try it?"
"Well, okay," Erin eyed him dubiously. Maybe she was a lesbian. Did a cock feel this good to a lesbian? It felt REALLY GOOD, a rich, full feeling with the added layer of being helpless beneath Randall's pounding attack. Tentatively, she went to work on her buzzing clit.
The little nub of flesh was already up, fully engorged, waiting for something to abuse pleasure out of it. In fact, it took no time at all for Erin to discover that she was three-quarters of the way to orgasm and the background of Randall's efforts were making it a LOT easier than usual. Erin's usual efforts at masturbation were like playing a lone guitar; Randall added a string ensemble in support, making for something richer, more powerful...
Two things happened almost immediately: Erin pinked up again, and her vagina tightened around Randall's cock! "Mmmmm, yeah! That's better, isn't it?" Randall started extracting pleasure from his work, as Erin's tightened inner lining increased his stimulation.
"Oh, boy! OHHHH BOY!" The constriction increased Erin's pleasure, too, which started a feedback loop. "Can I move my legs?" Suddenly, she couldn't hold still...
"Sure..." Randall didn't know how she'd managed to stay splayed for so long without cramping, anyway. Hey, was her ass moving?
It was. Erin was starting to show a bit of muted animation all over. As much as she tried to hold still, her ass clenched, and her knees wiggled, and her pussy was gripping, relaxing, gripping, relaxing... Her control was shredding; the harsh buzz in her clit said a BIG one was coming -- but that seemed to be the least of it! Randall was generating something that seemed to hover out there, huge; when the familiar pop went off, the dam would break and she would drown! Instinctively fearing inundation, she withdrew her fingers from her clitoris.
But it was too late; she'd have gotten there, anyway, and maybe it would have been gentler, but Randall had sensed her excitement, and it had triggered a matching excitement in him. The tickle in his cock that presaged orgasm came upon him and he started sledge hammering her pubic mound in a last minute effort to bring her home.
"OOOH MY GOOOOOD!" Erin wailed. Randall's pounding turned out to be even better than her fingers in that moment; shock waves of pleasure poured from her vagina and clitoris, sweeping everything before them. Erin wrapped her legs behind Randall's thighs, clutching him to her while her clit detonated once, twice, three times! Randall pulled over the top by her reaction, jammed himself into her releasing his pent-up ejaculate. Erin felt the pulse against her cervix as it punched the tip of the rubber and went away...
Nobody was more surprised than Randall! Once she finally got going, her tunnel's rhythmic clasp was inescapable! He surged and grunted, firing the first pulse of his orgasm, and watched Erin's eyes roll up while her body clutched and hunched and shook...
"Erin... Erin? Are you okay?"
Erin swam to consciousness to see Randall eyeing her worriedly. She couldn't move; her entire body was drained, lethargic. Speech was an effort, too, "Mmmm... Yuh. Uh, yes, I'm okay..." Actually, 'okay' didn't BEGIN to describe it, but it would do for the moment.
Randall heaved a sigh. He'd been afraid that Erin had had a seizure or something when her eyes rolled up like that. "Are you sure?"
Erin laughed breathlessly. "Oh, Randall, I'm wonderful! You're wonderful! I CAME! Not just a little cum, like when I diddle -- a BIG cum! I NEVER came like that before! You're incredible!"
"Gee, I dunno. I wasn't doing that well until I told you that you should, uh, masturbate..."
"Oh, no!" Erin disagreed, shaking her head. "You were great from the start! I loved it -- I could have let you ride me all night!"
"Well, I wouldn't have lasted much longer." Randall grimaced. "You make it sound like I was accomplishing something. I... wasn't sure."
"You WERE! You wiped Rob with your fingers! I was afraid to move, for fear I'd screw it all up..."
"What?" Randall was nonplussed. "Uh, look -- it's, uh, better if you move... I thought I wasn't accomplishing ANYTHING!" Randall shook his head. "You were kind of, uh, wooden..."
"Oh. Bad?" Erin winced.
"Yeah. Sort of depressing. You can, uh, loosen up, right?"
"Yeah. At least, I think so." Was that why no one ever came back for seconds? Damn! She glanced away, embarrassed -- and picked up the clock. "God! Is it that late?"
Randall followed her eyes. "We were at it for quite a while..."
"My mom will be home soon!"
"Sounds like my cue..." Randall backed off.
The movie was a 'chick flick' -- a romantic comedy. On the initial pass, they decided that Mary should sit in the middle, so that she could claim to be with either of the boys, as necessary. But midway through the movie, Mary went to the bathroom -- and on her return, she murmured to Stick, "Scoot over. This is getting ridiculous." Stick ended up with an arm around Mary and an arm around Teddy, and everyone else's opinion be damned... The three of them had a great time, kidding each other over the foolishness going on on-screen and generally relaxing. Burgers afterward were similarly relaxed. Not until the boys delivered Mary home did seriousness intervene. "How are we going to handle the Astronomy Club meeting tomorrow?" she asked. "Teddy and I need to be there..."
"Who else?" Stick asked.
"Jimmy Hightower, Amy Kelleher, Randall Braithewaite, Darla Jean Nevins -- probably Danny the Wop and Thelma Franken, too."
"Why is this important?"
"When we needed an alibi for Teddy last weekend, Amy and I led Darla Jean into a set-up so that Randall could take a shot at her. Randall feels... responsible for the shit Darla Jean got into last night with Ted Phipps. He wants us to tell all..."
"Guess I can go to that," Stick allowed. "Think they'll make us?"
"They're the Brain Trust..." Mary replied.
"Does it matter?"
"No," Teddy volunteered. "They're cool."
"Awright," Stick grunted. "I'm goin' then."
"Cool." Teddy nodded. "See you in the morning, Mary." He popped up to kiss her good night.
"Night, Hon." Mary bussed him one. "Night Stick."
"Night, Baby." Stick stepped in and got his kiss, and the boys headed for the car. "Think we're really gonna keep a lid on this?" he asked Teddy.
"It'll come out, sooner or later," Teddy replied. "But it probably won't matter, if it's close enough to graduation. It really depends on who learns about it and what they think. My friends won't care, and they won't talk."
"Cool." Stick ruffled Teddy's locks.
Nate spent the whole trip back to the warehouse dreading what he'd find there. Roland eyed him in some amusement as he ranted and raved, but things were quiet when they got to the dock. DiAngelo was nowhere in sight, so Roland asked one of the other drivers what had gone on.
"Nuthin'. Nuthin' at all," the guy replied. "I think Di was pissed; they didn't even raise their voices at one another. Di went in to do some work a while ago, and nobody has come out..."
Roland and Nate shared a glance, and Roland grunted, "Let's clean up the truck before we go see which bodies hafta be disposed of..." Nate rolled his eyes and went to pull down some rain gear.
Twenty minutes later, Roland rapped on the office door. At DiAngelo's grunt, Roland and Nate entered to find him working at his desk, Stella working at her small one, and Nora seated in a chair, listening to her CD player. " 'Bout time you got back," DiAngelo grunted. "You wanna get her outta here so I can take care of business?" Stella glanced up; she knew what THAT meant.
Nora did, too. She snatched of her headset and rose to kiss her boyfriend, then turned to Stella. "Okay, Nate can talk nasty to you, but that's it, understand? Unless I'm here watching, you don't get any more."
Stella got this deer in the headlights look. "You'd watch?"
"I might." Nora eyed her a moment. "You'd like that, huh?"
"Oh, yeah!" Stella nodded. "A lot!" she added, earnestly.
Nora grinned. "We'll see." She turned to Nate. "Are you ready?"
"Yeh." He turned and led the way out, anger and embarrassment an aura around him.
DiAngelo stopped him at the door, "Kid! Saturday or Sunday?"
Nate stood glaring at Nora. She'd been going to get some input -- but now... "Sunday. Okay?"
"Fine. See ya then. Noon." DiAngelo waved his release.
Roland waited until the door closed before chuckling. "Well, Stella -- he's plenty mad. You might get some a' him after all, 'cause they might break up over this."
"You think?" Stella asked. "Damn! I think I'd rather have her watch than suck Nate's dick..."
Roland grunted laughter. "You're amazin'! If I'd a' got to ya first, I'd have a half-dozen little half-breed kids an' I wouldn't hafta work, 'cause you'd be peddlin' the leftovers at parties..."
Stella laughed. "Roland! You say the sweetest things! Been learning from Nate?"
"Awright, enough with the compliments! Get over here and kneel up!" DiAngelo grunted. "All this shit tonight's made me horny!"
"Me, too!" Stella agreed, stepping out of her skirt and crossing to her boss. "How do you want me?"
"On your back. Get up on the desk," DiAngelo replied. "How is it you two managed not ta rip each other's hair out?"
"She just wanted to make sure I didn't poach -- and she wanted to know why," Stella replied. "I'd never told a woman why... It was... hot." Stella dropped her head over the edge of the desk and eyed Roland upside- down. "Want some throat? I could use the extra..."
"If I don't plug the ol' lady tonight, SHE'LL be down here tomorra an' you WILL lose some hair!" Roland grunted. "How 'bout I see if Lou is around?" Stella nodded, her face flickering to DiAngelo's penetration at mid-nod. Roland shook his head and stalked out.
Nate was silent until they were in the car. "You coulda' fucked me up in there!" he ranted.
"I know, Honey," Nora replied, penitent, "but I didn't..."
"What else am I gonna hear about it?"
"Nothing," Nora replied. "Stella knows the rules. I'll want to know about it, but that's it..."
"That AIN'T it, and you KNOW it!" Nate ranted. "Did you see the look on her face when you said you might watch? She gets off on stuff like that!"
"Oh, I know," Nora agreed, "she told me her whole sordid history! Your boss is lucky -- she's a classic submissive!"
"Well, YOU'RE gonna be submissive tonight!" Nate ranted. "I'm gonna beat that ass..."
"Okay." Nora's eyes took on a gleam. "If you don't damage it too much, maybe you'll want to fuck it..."
"You're trying' to distract me!" Nate admonished.
"Yeah," Nora agreed, eyeing him sidelong. "Is it working?"
"No." A second or two went by, and Nate shrugged, rolling his eyes, "Yeh. You're still gonna get it, though."
"Okay." 'We'll see... '
Velma sat in the kitchen, stoically riding out some mild cramping while awaiting the kids' return. The 'morning after' pill probably wasn't required -- Beckman had confirmed that she was nowhere near ovulation -- but he'd ranted and raved at her about the perils of pregnancy for a woman with her issues with weight and a family history of high blood pressure. Then he'd given her a shot that was supposed to last three months; if it turned out that she needed it, she could renew it then -- if not, she could go back off birth control. Velma REALLY, REALLY wanted to be a candidate for more shots...
The kids came in, and Velma got up and put dinner in front of them. Miss Nora was obviously buttering young Mistah Nate up over sumpthin'; she musta stepped in it somewheres. Velma figured that was a good thing; the man oughta wear the pants in the family, in her mind. She wasn't used to anyone really running HER life (work didn't count), but she enjoyed the way ol' Ed argued and fought and pushed and prodded at her barriers -- it added a lot of spice to their relationship... Which, of course begged the question -- did they HAVE a relationship? Ed had been quick with meals and run and hid after; had the sock thing been too much? It had certainly been funny at the time... Mebbe he was just busy -- there was a lot of hammerin' an' such goin' on...
There was, too. Ed was VERY busy, extending Jason's rooms by connecting them to the next suite. Jason was making his life difficult by insisting that he keep everything in his suite squeaky clean while he did it, too, which required a ton of extra effort and inconvenience. Inez had stood by all day, except for a period when she left in the afternoon, constantly dusting and cleaning, but sawdust and sheetrock was messy stuff; Jason had bitched and bitched on his return from the office, and Ed had to go to Inez's aid to keep her from getting the strap. Fortunately, the pass- thru was about done; that left some adjustments to the other suite itself to set it up the way Jason wanted it. There was still an open question over whether a connecting door to the playroom was required -- but seeing some of the changes Jason had requested for the suite itself, Ed didn't see any reason for it. Another oddity was the odd color that Inez, with Jason's approval, picked for the small room just inside the pass-thru -- a happy little pastel that Ed associated with nurseries... Jason had requested an intercom from the room to his bedroom, too, disconnected from the main house system. Odd. Even odder, given the Boss' standing orders on such things, the Boss had approved it when Ed braced him with the requirement. "I don't need to know what goes on in there," the Boss had grunted. Weird. Ed covered his ass by making it easy to plug into the house system, eventually.
Chase entered Tabitha's room at the safe house. "Paul called. Says he's busy tonight and asked for a rain-check. And that he'll be in tomorrow." He eyed the skinny black woman. "What's up?"
"Nuthin' apparently," Tabitha grunted irascibly. "None a' yo' damn business, anyways!"
"Sorry," Chase grimaced.
"I wish I fuckin' knew, okay? Sumpthin' 'bout the big stupid fucker makes me all drippy! Ain't mutual, though," she sulked.
"Uh, okay." Chase discovered that he'd gotten more information than he really wanted. "Don't count him out just yet." He paused a second. "Why not Scott, or somebody..."
"Somebody black?" Tabitha filled in. "I dunno. Scott..." She couldn't explain it, but Scott struck her as weird as feet on a fish. Scott was a white guy in a brother suit -- nice, in a way, she guessed, but why not just DO the white guy? Scott just bothered her. Besides, it wasn't as if she'd never taken a white dick -- Hell, she probably did more o' them than blacks! Bruthuhs got pushy -- wanted to own your ass for fifty lousy bucks! Tabitha wasn't into the casual ownership thing. White boys tended to understand that it was a business proposition -- a short-term rental, and there were rules of occupancy... "Look, it's a one-off, probly. You ever get tickled by sumpthin' odd -- sumpthin' you never though you'd fuck with?"
"Yeah, now you mention it," Chase agreed. "Cool. Well, don't get too upset. Paul can be slow to come around, sometimes. You never know."