Paul, uncharacteristically, had lied. He was sitting in his small apartment, flipping channels on TV and trying to figure out why he was even entertaining the idea of bedding a skinny, wasted-looking black woman. But the crazy bitch set him off... It made no sense; she was a professional hooker -- not even high-end -- and a druggie. He was a professional, and she was his client -- that was reason enough to avoid her right there. But she didn't care... What the Hell did she see in him? And why on Earth would he seriously consider falling into bed with her?
"Mom?"
Sharon glanced up from her work, "Dear?"
"Do you have any... K-Y jelly?" Nora asked.
"What?"
"I... need some K-Y jelly..."
"Why?"
"MOM! Do I really have to draw you a picture?"
"Why?"
"I, uh, kind of stepped in it..."
"And you're buying Nate off?"
"Well, yeah, but we were going to do it soon, anyway..." Nora was positively purple.
"I don't have any. You could ask your father..." Sharon's smile would have done credit to a crocodile.
"MOM! Good God!"
"Well, we can try something else..." Sharon punched the intercom. "Felicia?"
"Mistress?"
"Do you have access to any personal lubricants?"
"Um, there might be something in the playroom. For you?"
"No, but I'll deliver it." Sharon eyed Nora.
"I'm on my way."
Sharon turned to Nora. "If you cherish your anonymity, you should leave. I'll bring it to you." Nora nodded and stepped out.
Moments later, the Wench appeared in the door. "How about Glide?"
"Is it okay for anal use?"
"Yeah. Not as long-lasting as some, but sometimes that's better, anally. You don't want to get TOO frictionless..." the Wench grinned, tossing a small squeeze bottle to Sharon. "Since it's not for you..."
"The list is pretty short?" Sharon smiled. "Nora is apparently offering Nate a bribe to ignore some trespass..."
"I saw them the other night. She wasn't going to keep THAT cherry for long..."
"Felicia!"
"He's playing with her ass constantly! She had less than a week, anyway! Trust me!"
"You're kidding, right?"
"He loves that ass! He can't keep his hands off of it! I've seen them!" the Wench laughed.
"Well, then..." Sharon waved dismissal.
Five minutes later, she rapped on Nora's door, then threw it open before her daughter and her boyfriend could react. "Here!" She tossed the bottle at Nora. "Oh, and Nate -- don't let her get away with whatever she's trying to weasel out of -- spank her first!"
Nora caught the bottle and flashed a look at Nate -- whose eyes carried a glint. "You promised!"
"I didn't have instructions from your Mama to tighten you up!"
"Since when do you listen to Mom?" Nora started backing across the bed.
"Since it's what I should be doin' in the first place!" Nate lurched, and Nora's wrist was caught in a vise.
"Nate! Noooo!" Gawd, he was strong! Nora found herself across Nate's knees, AGAIN! "No! Not the jeans! DON'T!"
"Get 'em off!"
"Nate, please!"
"Now!" Smack!
"Owww! Nate!"
"Smack!"
"Okay! Okay!" Nora started skinning out of her jeans. "Can I stand up?"
Nate thought about it. "If you're quick."
"Can I have my arm?"
"What am I, stupid?"
"Nate!"
"Get 'em off!" The hand came up.
"Okay, okay!" Nora went to work, one-handed. "Nate, Honey..."
"Uh uh. Don't even start!"
"Look, you're not gonna..."
"I'm gonna catch shit for tonight FOREVER! We need to iron out who is boss, here! I love you, Baby, but damn!" There was a jerk, and Nora was back over his lap.
SMACK!
"Oww!"
SMACK!
"Nate!"
SMACK!
"Please!"
"Please what?"
"Uh, stop?"
"No, that ain't it." SMACK!
"Oww!"
SMACK!
"Okay, okay! I'm sorry!"
"You said THAT before we started!" SMACK!
"Oh, Gawd!"
SMACK!
There was something intensely satisfying about watching Nora's ass cheeks deform under the shock waves from the impacts.
SMACK!
Nora had gone silent, but was making the periodic convulsive twitches that said she was sobbing. Nate let her have five more -- more because it pleased him than because she needed them -- and raised her up. "You gonna be good?" He got a wet face in his shoulder, but it was nodding. "Awright." He rubbed her back, holding her while she settled down.
It took ten minutes before she pulled away. "What about... ?"
"It can wait. It's mine, ain't it?"
"Uh huh."
"Let's go to bed. If it happens, it happens."
It didn't. They made long, slow, soft love in which orgasms were no less intense for having only elicited a soft, emphatic grunt.
"Traitor!" Nora glared at her mother from the breakfast table as she entered the kitchen on Friday morning...
Sharon shrugged. "I'm just doing my job -- making sure your father doesn't turn you into some leather-clad dominatrix." She got herself a cup of coffee while Velma stood by, watching to make sure Miz Sharon got all of her needs fulfilled. "Were you naughty? Did you deserve it?"
"Maybe. But other couples..."
"One thing your father has taught me is that just because some people act like lemmings, you don't have to. I know Nate keeps things to an area that MY mother and father felt free to use, and if it was that bad, it would be an issue between YOU, not an issue between US. Besides, Nate enjoys it." Sharon's eyes conveyed the final message in her response, '... and you do, too!'
"Well..." Nora dropped her eyes; that final message was the most damning. Nate's spankings hurt like Hell, but she got a kind of emotional release from them.
Sharon's eyes swiveled to Nate. "Nate, a reminder. When it's punishment, it's always over, afterward. You don't bring it back, again and again. If it ISN'T over, that's not the right way to handle it."
Nate eyed her. Mama Wilson was growin' up -- you could see it. She wasn't as tentative as she used to be. And he was clearly family... "What if it ain't punishment?"
Sharon looked mildly amused. "Then it isn't." She glanced away. "To have a woman in this family respond to a little recreational pain is not unheard of..."
"MOM!"
"What? I've had my nose rubbed in it! Wake up and smell the coffee!"
Velma, the only witness to this exchange who was not involved directly, turned away, thoroughly embarrassed. Well, they were da Boss' womenfolk...
Sharon, having sunk her barbs, was done. "Velma, I'll be eating in my office. Could you send me around half a grapefruit, a bagel, and coffee?"
"Yes, Miz Sharon. Yo' shoah yo' don' want more'n dat?" Velma's eyes blackmailed her for the sake of the younger generation's nutrition.
"Not today. I like more on occasion, but not always. I know where it goes." She glanced behind her at her ample fundament. "Besides, I'm not still a growing teen. You two could take on a little fruit..."
Nora rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mom."
Sharon shook her head and turned back toward her rooms.
The kids cleared out quickly after that, leaving Velma alone when Ed turned up for breakfast. "Whatchew want fer breakfast, ya fookin' rapist bastid?"
Ed looked momentarily like he'd been slapped. He'd been suffering some from yesterday's efforts in Jason's new family apartment, on top of a night of unaccustomed sex, and wasn't ready for a battle of wits. But a glance around said that this wasn't for public consumption, so he rallied. "Waffles, ya silly black slut! Strawberries an' whipped cream, and some bacon! I'm fuckin' starvin'! Can I get cream for my coffee outta them udders of yours?"
"Only if'n dat load o' babymakers yo' dumped in me takes hold!"
"Uhhh!" Ed discovered his defenses weren't up yet. His eyes flashed to Velma's, but she was grinning. Nonetheless, his unprepared reaction hurt her -- he could see it in her eyes -- and the longer he took to respond... "When would we know? Christmas? When the water broke?"
That was better. Velma realized she'd punched out a low blow only after she made the remark, but Ed's expression had hit back, hard. The recovery told her he was back on track... "Ah guess y'all gonna hafta come lissen ta mah belly evah day fo' awhile..."
"Shit. Be six months before a kid would make a dent in the noisy shit goin' on in THERE!" Ed laughed.
"Ah guess y'all'd hafta lissen HARD!" Velma turned away to start working on waffle batter. "Probly not a good idea, anyways. You'd probly git addicted ta the smell o' mah cooze..." She cracked an egg into the bowl and started measuring out pancake mix from the box. "Ah'd be shoah ta end up carryin' yoah kids if'n DAT happened, ya rapist bastid!"
It was the silence that told Velma that something was up. Ed was looking at the door, stricken. Boris was standing in the door, surprise writ large upon his face. Flicking his eyes from one participant to the other, he cleared his throat. "This is a private conversation, no?"
Velma rubbed her forehead, leaving a streak of flour. "Ah guess not any mo'..." Embarrassed, she turned back to what she was doing. Worse was the fact that she'd laid a torpedo in the water designed to see if Ed WOULD return -- and Boris had deflected it...
Boris glanced at Ed, who shrugged, embarrassed. Boris shrugged back -- it was none of HIS business... unless, perhaps, it WAS rape. "I'll come back."
"No, 'sokay," Velma muttered. "What yo' want ta eat?"
"What are you making?"
"Waffles an' bacon."
"That's fine." Boris got some coffee and settled himself gingerly at the table. Things were VERY quiet while Velma put the first waffle in the cooker and started the bacon. Boris broke the ice with a question, "So, how are the ren--, ah, repairs going?"
Ed took it up. "The renovations? Okay. Jason's a bastard about dust and shit, so I spend half my time with a shop vac, and Inez spends half of hers dusting the place." He ruminated a moment. "I can't understand why he's all particular about one of the spare rooms in the new area -- weird wall colors, and a special intercom connected to his bedroom..."
Velma pondered this while Boris murmured, "Really?"
"Yep. I braced the Boss on the intercom setup, an' he said somethin' like, 'I don't wanna know what goes on in there.' Weird thing is it isn't a place to bust on Inez -- he's got another room laid out for that..."
"What color is da walls?" Velma burst out.
"Washed-out lookin' pastel blue. Like a..."
"... Nursery?" Velma interjected, turning to Ed wide-eyed.
"Oh, ho lee shit!" Ed smacked his forehead. "That'd mean..."
"Inez is carryin'," Velma stated positively. "Ah KNOW Bianca ain't. An' she went ta the doc yestiddy." She eyed Ed significantly. "We went togethah..."
Ed absorbed this. So Velma HAD taken precautions. Did she just cover her ass for Wednesday night, or...
"Dat would explain why Mistah J was so pissed at her, fo' da last few days..."
"Whose do you think it is?" Boris wondered aloud.
Velma eyed the big Georgian as if he were a fool. "It be Mistah J's. Ain't no question. No way he'd keep her an' it othahwise."
"Hmph. I think you're right." Boris agreed.
"Ah am. Mistah J was serious pissed fo' a few days, but he be settlin' down. Ah'm guessin' dat was when he found out he was a daddy. If'n it was Raoul's, he wouldn'ta settled down. Inez'd be gone by now." Velma was absolutely positive. "Dat would explain why da Boss give her ta Mistah J as a slave. No way he'd a' done dat if da baby was Raoul's -- it'd a' opened da do' fo' Mistah J ta do crazy shit. Mistah J done leaned on her pretty hard, but wasn't no crazy shit..." It was a commentary on the nature of the household that the beatings and humiliation Inez had suffered wasn't considered 'crazy shit'. "Don' go blabbin'. Dere be some as knows who'll figger somebody talked, an' dat person's shit will be in da wind." Velma put the first waffle down in front of Ed, along with whipped topping and strawberries. "Bacon be up soon. Boris gets the nex' one."
Boris flicked Ed a sly glance that said, 'You get premium service, now?' Ed blushed. "Velma."
"Yah."
"Drag your lard ass over here."
"Whuffo'?"
"Jus' do it."
Velma left the bacon and shuffled over, "What?"
Ed stood and took his napkin to her face, working on the streaks of pancake mix. "White ain't your makeup color." Velma suffered this attention shakily. "So, ain't no kids this week?"
Velma glanced at Boris and licked her lips. "Not fo' a while." She locked eyes with him. "Ain't the way Ah'd do things."
Ed nodded and sat. "Goin' to burn that bacon..."
"An' dat be MAH fault? Wit' yo' jogglin' mah elbow, tellin' me what ta do?" Velma lumbered back to the stove.
"Ain't used to that, huh?" Ed grinned, plopping whipped topping on his waffle.
"No, Ah ain't! An' don' YOU git any ideas 'bout it, yo' ra-, uh, yo' ol' bastid!"
Conversation lapsed. The bacon arrived with Boris' waffle moments later, and Velma laid out the syrup, knowing Boris liked that better than more non-traditional toppings. Ed wolfed his portion down and stood. "I'm outta here," he announced, moving to the coffee pot. "Got to go finish up in there."
"Ah thought yo' wanted cream fer dat?" Velma flicked a glance at Ed's cup.
Ed sauntered up close, laughing, "You know better!" Leaning in, he whispered, "I like my coffee like I like my women -- Hot and black..."
"You!" Shock transfixed her long enough for him to get out of reach. She flicked her eyes to Boris, who assumed a neutral expression -- which told her he'd heard the whisper, too.
Boris applied himself to his waffle for a bit, but gradually he decided that he might have a need to know, after all. "How long has this been going on?"
"What?"
"Velma..."
"Coupla days. Weird shit started Monday or Tuesday. He jes' sudden started talkin' shit, an' Ah started back... Nex' thing Ah know..." She shrugged.
"What's this about a rape?"
Velma sighed, waved a heavy arm. "Wasn't. We was talkin' shit an' Ah sorta dared him. He come in mah room pretendin' ta be drunk -- but his breath smelled lahk vodka, an' tha rest o' him smelled lahk da scotch bottle he was luggin'. Ah didn't put up much of a fight..." She sighed. "It's kinda a game -- Ah swear he raped me an' he swears he was outta his head drunk. Truth is, both a' us needed ta fook."
"Is there going to be trouble?"
"Naw," Velma sighed. "Well, only if'n he teases me an don't come back... If'n he don' wan no mo', dat's okay," Velma's expression said otherwise, "but he's gonna hafta lay off da other stuff, den."
Boris nodded. "That's fair. Should I speak to him?"
"Naw. Ya might..."
"Stop him?"
"Yah." Velma managed to blush.
"Okay." Boris got up, filled his coffee cup, saluted her with it, and wandered out, smiling gently.
"Ah'm a fallen woman," Velma husked to herself.
Bianca walked in and began quickly putting together her own breakfast of a bagel and cream cheese; a glance at the clock said she had no time for anything else. "Yo' runnin' late?" Velma asked her.
"I have to rely more on my alarm," Bianca replied. "Mama has other concerns." Velma nodded, chuckling. Bianca eyed her for a moment and muttered, "Velma..."
"Not right now," Velma shut it off. "Ah've had enough true confessions dis mornin'. Ya'll come back an' see me later if'n yo' want da skinny, Chile."
"Okay." Bianca hit the door, grinning, around her bagel.
"Randall? You don't suppose..."
"Huh?" Randall spun. Erin. Goo-goo eyed. Uh oh. "I, uh, think we accomplished what we set out to do. If you remember what you've learned, you should be fine..."
"Oh." Erin was visibly depressed. "Well, if you ever..."
"Um, yeah." Randall looked around. There were at least fourteen people watching the exchange, most of whom were female. Ah, SHIT! Louise Bryant! "You need to set your sights on something that will get you somewhere in the long run, you know?"
"Um, yeah." Erin nodded. "Got any ideas?"
Randall rubbed his forehead. "That's, uh, kind of up to you." Jeez, what an airhead! Louise was closing... "Look, I got to go. We can talk later, maybe, okay?" Erin followed his nervous glance and nodded. Randall squeezed her shoulder, (probably not a smart move), and got out of there.
Nonetheless, he was getting odd looks from half of the girls in school by noon, and Louise Bryant was EVERYWHERE! Gym class was SUPPOSED to be a safe haven, but Toby lit things up with "Ta ta ta TA ta TA! Let's give a big hand for our own Randall 'Superstud' Braithewaite!"
"Aw, shit, gimme a break, Toby!"
"Get back! Be careful in the showers! The hot rod might misfire!"
"Toby! ENOUGH, Man!" Randall ranted, "or I'll get Beulah Tyrone to swallow you!"
"You know Beulah, too?"
"Not like YOU will!" Randall replied. A dozen guys laughed.
"Okay, so what happened?" Toby asked. "Erin has been spreading it all over school that you're superman..."
"She's... misinformed."
"She's had Rob -- surely that's a basis for comparison..."
"Well, she had... challenges. I got really lucky -- and I'm not sure how it happened..."
"Is she good?"
"She can be, I think," Randall replied. "But not for YOU, Toby. YOU need a Mama. I'll talk to Peggy for you!"
"Peggy! EWWWWW!" That got rid of Toby! Still, there was a lot more good-natured ribbing, especially from guys who wouldn't normally be seen with him. Odd, how your stock went up, purely by accident...
Mary Nally accosted Darla Jean in the hallway, "You're coming tonight, right?"
"Astronomy Club? Are you sure you guys want to be seen with me?" Darla Jean asked.
"You're the guest of honor, Hon." Mary rested a hand on Darla Jean's shoulder.
"Oh, God! Am I gonna pull a train?"
"Hon, I think I ought to remind you that THIS is the bunch that PROTECTED your rep..." Mary remonstrated. "Besides, if you're concerned about who can generate the biggest scandal, I'LL be there -- with BOTH of my boyfriends -- and I GUARANTEE I can generate one that would sweep YOURS under the rug!"
"Then what's up?" Darla Jean queried.
"Randall seems to feel responsible for your downfall," Mary sighed. "Actually, you'd be surprised at the cast of characters involved, but if you come, we'll all lay it out for you in gory detail..."
Darla Jean shrugged. "Randall just opened the door..."
"I know that, but he doesn't. You opened HIS, for that matter -- and now he's trying to deal with a case of sudden notoriety..."
"Huh?"
"You haven't heard the legend that is 'Stud' Braithewaite?" Mary chided. "You HAVE been shunned!" She tittered. "Apparently Erin McGrath tripped him last night and became impaled on his cock; now she's telling the world that he makes Rob Graham look like an amateur!"
"No!"
"Yes! And poor Randall does NOT know what he's going to do with Bang Nation..." Mary released another titter. "You KNOW they don't meet his mental standards! Even a horndog like Randall has to be able to talk to his women occasionally..."
Darla Jean shook her head. On Saturday morning, looking around to see if she could do better had seemed the safe course; now, more and more it appeared that lightning had struck on the first pass, and she'd talked herself out of a good thing. Now Randall had a harem, and she had a reputation as a slut -- and something simple had become extremely complicated...
"I think Randall tripped over Erin running from Louise Bryant," Mary prattled on. "She's been all over him like a coat of paint. Although I don't really see what makes her so objectionable..."
Darla Jean shrugged. "Me either. In some ways she has more to work with than I do..."
"Well, I'm not sure what's up, but Randall can't STAND her -- and she apparently can't take a hint..." Mary mused a moment. "Maybe we should intervene..." She shrugged. "Meanwhile, are you coming?"
"I guess," Darla Jean sighed. "Are YOU gonna be there this time?" she asked archly.
"Promise. Cross my heart." Mary returned solemnly.
If you asked Randall what the problem with Louise was, you'd have unaccountably hit a stone wall -- Randall couldn't really verbalize it. In fact, it defied rational analysis, which paradoxically for Randall made the whole thing even more compelling! Louise just gave Randall the heebie- jeebies! Maybe it was her coloration; Louise was brown. Her skin was a shade that looked like a permanent tan -- not really a bad thing -- but her hair was brown, and her eyes were brown. Louise wasn't huge or anything, but she was just rounded enough to appear dowdy. She was eighteen, but gave off an aura that said 'spinster librarian', apparently twice her age. While Louise wasn't Brain Trust material, she could hold her own, intellectually -- she wasn't stupid, by any means -- but her personality could best be described as 'weak' or 'limp'. Her timid, sheep-like demeanor led her to accept the clothing choices of her controlling mother, items that papered over the fact that she sported 36C breasts and decent, if oddly muscular, legs by covering them in drab fabrics that made her a shapeless lump of shadow. Fact was, if you put Louise in a yellow bikini, the wolves would sit up and take notice -- but it had never happened, and at the current rate, it never would. Louise's big chance SHOULD have been the Prom -- many a girl made ground by proving that they cleaned up well at that function -- but she'd arrived stag in a hideous dress that contrived to de-emphasize her good points while making her look overweight and lost what was probably her only opportunity for some time.
Louise's method of attempting to attract Randall's attention reflected her lacks; basically, she was just contriving to be in his line of sight as often as possible, looking moon-eyed and dumbstruck. Randall was seriously unprepared to accept hero-worship; it embarrassed him and caused him to work at ignoring her. Since she would never think of saying a word to him, ignoring her was that much easier for Randall -- but the whole stalker scenario had him spooked. She was there, watching him from one table over while he nervously attacked his lunch when Mary hove into view with the word that Darla Jean would indeed be present for the Astronomy Club meeting. "Good," Randall sighed, "At least SOMETHING is going according to plan!"
"Problems?" Mary asked, amused.
Randall rolled his eyes. "Girls I've known since kindergarten are suddenly wandering by ogling me like I'm a museum exhibit. Have I grown horns, or something?"
Mary settled next to Teddy, chuckling. "Last week, you were getting NO attention, and complaining about THAT!"
"Well, yeah -- but it's the expectations! They're ridiculous! The first time things don't go perfectly with some girl, I'll get flushed down the toilet, too!" He leaned forward and added conspiratorially, "Besides, I'm NOT getting attention from anything I WANT..." flicking his eyes at Louise.
"Louise might be a catch..." Mary hazarded.
"Look, I can't explain it, but no thanks! She's just NOT my type! There's something..." He shuddered.
"Want me to see what I can do?" Mary asked.
"Would you?" Randall's eyes pled. "I can deal with most of them, but Louise... I can't even be nice to her! It's embarrassing, but..."
"Let me see what I can do." Mary hopped up and planted herself across from Louise, "Hey Louise. What's up?"
"Oh, nothing." Louise frowned gently; Mary had deliberately placed herself in Louise's line of sight to Randall.
"Why are you stalking Randall?"
"Stalking?" Louise frowned. "That's a strong word. He's just turned out to be a surprise. I was thinking maybe..."
"Well, don't, Hon. It'll just get you hurt. You're not Randall's type. In fact, you're freaking him out!"
"What?" Louise was taken aback. "I haven't done anything."
"Well, maybe not, but this thing you're doing, chasing him everywhere, looks like stalking. And all it's doing is making him nuts. You need to settle on somebody else, Hon."
Louise glared. "YOU just don't want competition!"
Mary pealed laughter. "Hon, I have TWO, count 'em, TWO boyfriends! My mother thinks I'm a total slut! I've got neither time nor interest in Randall, except as a friend of Teddy's!" She leaned forward. "But that doesn't change the facts, and the fact is, Randall is embarrassed about it, but he is NOT interested in you at all!"
"Well..." Louise looked frustrated, "Why not?"
"He can't put a finger on it..." Mary shrugged. "Let's come at this from a different direction. Why are YOU suddenly interested in HIM?"
Louise blushed. "Ummm..."
"Sex? That's the only thing that has suddenly distinguished Randall in the past week," Mary answered her own question. "Are you into sex?" Mary eyed the other girl closely. "Have you even HAD sex?"
"Mary!" Louise had been dating her fingers fairly regularly since she was thirteen, but she'd never even been to first base! "Well, no, but I've got urges. Sex isn't it -- at least, not the whole thing. I want a boyfriend."
Mary looked perplexed. "Then why Randall? Do you think you can really put up with the nerdy guy stuff he does all the time? What about that hair?"
"Gee, I dunno," Louise mumbled, picking at a french fry. "I guess I figured if he was that good at sex, and that nice to a girl..."
"... Everything else was forgivable?" Mary shook her head. "Don't settle, Louise. You'll only end up unhappy."
"That's easy for YOU to say!" Louise glared. "I've got nothing! Besides, sex might be really big!"
"You need to know -- not guess." Mary sat back and eyed Louise. "What are you willing to do to get a boy?"
Louise hesitated, then leaned forward, "Anything."
"Anything? That covers a lot of ground!"
"What have YOU done?" Louise challenged.
Mary shrugged. "Well, quite a bit. And the jury's not in. But if you prostitute yourself to get married, and then you slack off, you'll end up divorced -- guys don't like that. You need to try to cover more bases if you're gonna try to handle the whole thing in one shot... What ELSE do you want?"
"Well, all the regular stuff... Good-looking, reasonably smart -- not up to Randall, maybe, but reasonably -- nice and considerate, but kinda in charge..." Louise sat a moment, musing. "And I REALLY think the sex thing will be important."
"How important? Randall's a stud, by all accounts; Peggy said she flat couldn't handle him! Maybe you should look for something less intimidating..." Mary snapped her fingers. "You know, Randall isn't the only guy who's turned up on the 'sexually adequate' list this week. I wouldn't wish Ted on a German Shepherd, due to the way he treats people, but... Have you ever considered Dwayne?"
"Dwayne's a jock."
"Which means?"
"He's got girls falling all over him, no doubt."
"Uh huh. That's why it took Darla Jean all of three days to hunt him down? Guess again, Hon. But Darla Jean, who by all accounts is high- maintenance in the sack, considers him to be more than adequate. While he's not hung like King Kong and doesn't have the staying power of the Energizer Bunny, he gets the job done quite nicely -- and, maybe more important, he treats you nicely before, during, and after, something you WON'T get from Ted. Last but not least, he's good-looking and has nice buns..."
"More than adequate?" Louise cocked an eyebrow.
"Hey, talk to Darla Jean, if you want specifics. I just know that we had a girl talk about what REALLY happened to Darla Jean, and Ted came off as a rapist bastard, and Dwayne got the seal of approval..." Mary shrugged.
"No shot with Randall?" Louise confirmed, doubtfully.
"None," Mary confirmed. "He's embarrassed about it, because he thinks everything should have a logical explanation, but you bother him at a gut level. It's not something that you're gonna overcome."
"That sucks," Louise groused.
"Well, yeah," Mary agreed. "But it doesn't mean you have anything wrong with you -- it just means that you and Randall don't have any chemistry."
"That seems to be the case with me and a LOT of people," Louise sighed. "Thanks for the advice, anyway."
"Sure. Good luck." Mary hopped up and returned to her lunch.
"How did it go?" Randall asked, unwilling to risk a look at Louise.
"Well, I think," Mary sighed. "Poor thing -- she's just looking for a guy..."
"Well, she's gone," Teddy observed.
"That's ONE down!" Randall muttered, exasperated.
"This will all blow over inside a month and you'll be wishing you'd ridden it harder," Mary predicted.
"Maybe." Randall wasn't convinced.