Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 HOCC: The Coxville Book Club Meeting II (finale)

   BY Otaku-ogre

   The sun was just rising over Coxville County.  The chirping of birds
just beginning to hit their stride of activity as the giant orange ball
ascended in the east.  It was an early saturday morning.  The dew just
beginning to evaporate from the many blades of grass and the scarce
lingering shadows of the previous dusk receded with the breaking dawn as
they had every morning, for as long as any denizens of the region could
recall.  The telltale signs it was going to be yet another scorcher in the
small southern town.  Christmas was near, yet the steadily rising heat held
all the promise of summer.  To most, it was to be a typical weekend day. 
One filled with chores, frivolity and the expected hustle and bustle that
comes with day-to-day life in the south.  For a select few however, it was
to be a day (and evening) unlike any other.  One of deception, decadence,
defiance and - most of all - carnal feats and labors that would find even
the most able-bodied man and woman tried and wanting.





   ...And all of it, initiated by the hand of one person.  One woman.  A
housewife of Coxville County by the name of Mrs.  Ivana Swallows.

   It all began with four phone calls.  Ivana Swallow stood by the large
circular window of her spacious bedroom, draped in her tan colored silk
robe and looking out over the expanse of her suburb.  The beautiful morning
view of the sun was always a much enjoyed habit of hers.  One she'd just
realized - while listening to the steady buzz of her first outgoing call -
she'd neglected far too many times over the past weeks.  Her stark green
eyes scanned the distance, hills and trees, houses, marvelled at the sight
of that huge mansion overlooking city hall that they'd finally finished
building.  The warmth of the sun made her skin feel simply divine beneath
the fabric of her robe.  The heated tingle it brought to her skin gave rise
to memory of other pleasurable sensation as well.  Pleasurable and
thoroughly exhausting.  Even fully covered in her robe, Ivana Swallows
looked stunning.  Her gorgeous figure hinted from underneath the sheer
fabric, her half crossed arms making the succulent curves of her massive
breasts tease any viewer with meaty cleavage.  The buzz of the phone was
abruptly cut off by about the fourth or fifth ring.  The response from the
other phone wasn't a cordial `hello', but a high pitched and only
half-muffled squeal of;





   "Ouch!"





   Ivana couldn't help but roll her eyes at the sound.  That was about what
she'd have expected from Sammy Spitzmen, accident prone to the degree that
picking up a phone was a potential hazard.  Lord knew she loved the ginger
gym nut to pieces, but some days she wondered how someone so ditzy managed
to survive for so long.  Darwin's theory flipped onto its head is what it
was.





   "Dang it!" said Sammy, an audible clack and clutter as she struggled
either untangling or picking up the phone from wherever she'd taken it.





   "H-Hello?" came Sammy's voice.



   "Sammy, are you alive over there?"



   "Ivy?"



   "Its me, dear", said Ivana.  "Should I call 911, anything broken?"





   "No" replied Sammy.  "Just got tripped up on this stupid phone cord."



   "When are you going to get rid of that ancient thing?  You do know they
sell cordless phones now.  You don't have to keep that relic just because
you're grandmother handed it off to you."

   Some shuffling and muffled curses from the other end of the phone rose
and fell.



   "Y-Yeah, I know." said Sammy.

   "Then again, with you I'm not entirely sure it'd do much good",
confessed Ivana.

   At this, Sammy giggled, not catching the fact that Ivana was purely not
joking...or perhaps maybe she did.



   "So what's up?" asked Sammy.  "I was just about to head on over to the
Olympian.  Want to meet me there?"



   "Actually" began Ivana, "I called to ask if you were free this
afternoon."



   "This afternoon?"

   A moment of silence, the redhead gnawing at the idea.



   "I was gonna clean and make dinner for Steve tonight...whenever he gets
back from work.But aside from that, I got nothin goin."



   "Excellent.  I'm having a little get together today.  A small potluck.
Nothing grand, just the girls from our book club."



   "Really?!" squealed Sammy from her end of the phone.  The noise was so
pitched with delight that Ivana actually had to pull her head away from the
receiver for a moment.



   "Oh wow, that'd be great.  Feels like I haven't seen ya'll in ages."

   At this, Ivana agreed.  Circumstances had made their gatherings seem
spaced far more than before.  Ivy's work had held her hostage at Coxville
High to the point she'd barely seen her own husband in the previous weeks,
let alone her friends (and lesser still her enemy).



   "So I take your enthusiasm as a sign to expect you at three o'clock?"



   "You bet!" said Sammy, a half-cheered held in her tone.



   "Should I set up anything special for you?  Organic fruit, zero fat
yogurt...padding on the walls and crash helmet perhaps?"

   At this Sammy laughed.  "No, no.  I'm good Ivy.  I'll stop by the health
food store on my way back from the gym."



   "Nothing TOO healthy this time, I hope.  I think Bianca is still having
nightmares about those kale muffins you brought last time."



   "Psh!  Bianca oughta be thanking me I introduced those to her.  Those
chocolate chip cookies she brought aren't gonna make her fanny get any
smaller."

   Ivana knew that small jab to be true.  She'd heard the little nickname
students (and a number of faculty) at Coxville High -the school both she
and Bianca Blackwood worked at - had given.  3B, Big Butt Blackwood or some
such nonsense.



   "Well, for the sake of the others, let's keep it moderately healthy
today, yes?



   "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya." said Sammy.



   "Excellent.  It's settled then.  I'll see you at three sharp." said
Ivana.



   "You'll see me!" replied Sammy.

   The two said their goodbyes, and ended the call.

   ...



   "Oh, I dunno Ivy..." came the hesitant cadence of Bianca Blackwood's
voice.  "I still have a mountain of papers to grade."



   "Oh work, work, work!" replied Ivy from her end of the phone.  "Taking
an afternoon to hang out with the girls won't leave your semester in chaos,
BB."



   "Said the pot to the kettle" replied Bianca.  "You've been cooped up in
your office at the school like Victor Frankenstein for weeks now.  I can
count on one hand the number of times I've seen you in the halls or the
teacher's lounge."



   "Exactly!" huffed Ivana.  "Us hard working women have been workin
ourselves to the bone.  Why not give ourselves a day off?"



   "Because the only true method of completed work is in the persistence,
not the occasional break."



   "Ah, occasional being the operative word, dear.  You're drained, I can
hear it in your voice."

   Bianca gave a light sigh.  The big blonde most definitely had been
working herself to the nub.  It was a trait that Ivana truly respected most
about her tall (extremely shapely) colleague.  She put work first and
frivolity at a very distant second.



   "You're not doing yourself or your students any good trying to power
through papers if you're brains scrambled like two eggs on sunday morning."

   Silence...Bianca was thinking it over.



   "Well..." The thick fair-haired beauty began, a yield hinted in her
sultry voice.  "It has been a minute since I have seen everyone.  Some
female camaraderie might do my low morale some good."



   "Low morale?" questioned Ivana.  "What's up?  Everything good with you
and Jeb?"



   "O-Oh yeah, things are great" said Bianca, Ivy catching the lie almost
instantly.  "Me and Jeb are great.  So are the kids.  Its just...these
papers.  They're really nothing to rave about.  As a teacher, it...it can
be a bit disheartening at times, you know?"



   "Disheartening huh?  That bad?"



   "Bad would be a generous word for most of these, Ivy.  Its like they're
not even trying half the time.  I really do wonder why I even bother some
days.  "



   "Yeesh.."



   "My one girl, Daphne, she's about the only one who shows any semblance
of enthusiasm in her work.  I'd settle for enthused if not altogether
correct."



   "What about that other kid, the one you're always riled up about?"

   Bianca knew exactly who Ivana meant.



   "Oh...yeah, him.

   Gerald Stylze was the name of Bianca's student.  Blackwood made a big
show of not uttering his name, but her body gave off a slight jolt at the
recollection of him.  Ivana could hear Bianca shift around in her seat at
the mention of the unruly student.



   "I've got his paper right in front of me now..."



   "And..." coaxed Ivana, wanting to know more.



   "His choice in subject matter is...questionable, to say the least.  But
his performance is...gawd, his performance."



   "That bad huh?" said Ivana.

   Bianca trailed off for a moment, uncertain of how to finish.



   "He's very...intense...about his stance on the matter.  Rigorous even."



   "Heh, gotta admire passion in the young ones" added Ivana.  "Well,
you've got one stellar student, and another rigorously passionate one. 
That, Mrs.  Blackwood, is a success.  You should treat yourself to a
celebration at my place for a job well done in instilling our precious
youth with solid academic tutelage."

   At this Bianca had no choice but to laugh.Ivana could come off like a
car-saleswoman when she wanted to convince someone to do something.  The
constant, at times pushy, insistence wrapped in compliments won most people
over most of the time.  And if her assertive charms didn't do the trick,
her stunning looks would invariably get the job done.



   "You pose an interesting case, Mrs.  Swallows" joked Bianca.  "Let me
finish up a few more papers and I'll see about heading down."

   Seeing was quite different from saying she'd be there,but Ivana took
that compliance as about as much a victory as to be attained with Bianca.
Truth be told,the blonde bombshell was almost about as stubborn as she was.



   "Splendid,hon.  It is a potluck, so be sure to bring a little
something."



   "Will do" replied Bianca.

   The two women spent another few moments working out the few lingering
details, and finished their conversation with - more or less - the promise
that Bianca Blackwood would be at the Swallows' residence at 3 P.M.

   "One last question before I go, Ivy." said Bianca.

   "Yes?"

   "...Sammy won't be bringing any of those god awful kale muffins, will
she?"

   ...



   "Da~" was all Anya White had to say on the matter.  "Would be joyed over
to go potluck!"

   The Russian sounded simply ecstatic on the line.  Ivy was almost taken
aback by how perky the woman sounded today.



   "Overjoyed, dear." said Ivana.



   "Chto?" replied Anya.



   "Its overjoyed, not joyed over.  I guess Bianca missed that word during
your English lessons."



   "Ah, sure sure,yes.  Overjoyed.  I would be overjoyed to go potluck."

   Ivana didn't want to be a stickler for english (that was BB's job) so
she left out the correction of going `to a' potluck in the woman's
statement.



   "Great Anya.  So glad to hear it.  Be sure that Tom doesn't try to
weasel his way into going, yes?  Strictly a girl's thing, you can assure
him he doesn't need to act as your shadow like he usually does."



   "Oh, is no problem Ivy.  Tom is out of town this weekend.  Business
trip. Just me and...him..."

   Ivy could hear the venom in the Russian wife's voice upon uttering the
word `him'.  The busty nurse knew exactly who `he' was, and by relation
knew Anya was chomping at the bit to be out of the house.



   "Ah, the joys of motherhood" said Ivana,a joking lilt to her tone
intended to (jokingly) annoy Anya.



   "STEP-mother" Anya corrected.  "Back home, children like him were
marched into the cold and left in woods."



   "Here we just give them therapists."

   "Do therapist have baseball bat and KGB training?"

   "No, I'm afraid they most often don't."



   "Then you Americans are doing it wrong."

   The two women laughed, all but guaranteeing one another that they'd see
each other that afternoon.



   "3 o'clock sound good?" asked Ivana.



   "Da.  Will be there with on-bells."



   "Bells on..."



   "Chto?"



   "With bells on, dear.  How would one show up `on' bells?"



   "Don't know...figured it was just one your strange American phrases."



   "Oh, Bianca's gonna have some serious catch-up work to do."

   ...



   The fourth and final call was by far the most difficult.  Ivana was
actually hesitant at first.  Stalling for almost an hour with pacing and
fiddling about with things in her room.  She picked out her clothes for
that day; her white sleeveless blouse - the one that best showcase the
toned curves of her shoulders and neck, her light colored skirt - that
seemed to clench and cup at her meaty curves - and went about drawing a
bath armed with her array of scented soaps and oils.  Ivana was preparing.
She went at this for some time, until finally working up the nerve to dial
in the numbers on the phone.

   One ring.

   Two rings.

   Another.



   Ivana started to wonder if anyone was home.  Her heartbeat quickened. 
This call was the most crucial to her days plan.  She needed it in order
for all that she had planned to be put in motion.  By now, the seeds she
had sown the day or so prior should have already begun to blossom.

   Another ring...

   And another...

   Ivana was starting to think her entire plot had been dashed, everything
done for nothing, when...



   "Hello..." came the voice from the other end.



   It was a low, seductive tambour.  Its lilt and cadence tickling the
senses like a starlet cooing into a lover's ear.



   "Jenny, dear?" replied Ivana, her tone just as low and luminous as the
first.



   "Ivy, honey, good to hear your voice." said Jenny Summers.  "Been a
dog's age it feels like since we've talked."

   Eight dog's ages and a life times wouldn't be nearly enough, you slut!
was what Ivana wanted to coo into the phone at the blonde haired woman.



   "Oh, I know~, been swamped with work just lately."



   "So I've heard..." replied Jenny, a faint sense of knowing at the tip of
her tongue that cause Ivana to start a little.



   "I...I'm having a potluck today."



   "Oh really?"



   "Nothing fancy, just the girls and I"



   "I see." said Jenny.



   "Wouldn't be a party without you, hon" shot Ivana.



   "Well...I'm helping Harold get some of his things ready.  Apparently he
got the idea from George that they should go on a fishing trip this
weekend."

   "Yes..." said Ivana, cautiously making it sound like she was aware, but
not too aware of the men's plans.  "I heard George say something like that
the other day.  Figured the boys not being around would give us girls a
chance to meet up.  Its been too long.  Can't even remember the last time
we all got together."

   "Last book club meeting" said Jenny flatly, not at all convinced that
Ivana could remember their last gathering.  "You must have been the busy
little beaver to not remember the last book club meeting" shot Jenny.

   Ivana could feel her grip tightening on the phone handle.  She knows,
thought Ivy.  Somehow, Jenny knew about what had happened during her town
study.  She was waving it in front of her, the bitch.  As if she hadn't
done worse.

   "Someone's gotta do it" said Ivana.  "So, we're seeing you at my place
then, right?  Three sharp.  Wouldn't be a party without you."

   "You say that enough times, and I might actually start believing you,
Ivy?"

   At this, both women laughed, but not an ounce of warmth was held in the
sounds.



   "Well, let me just see Harold off, and I'll see what I can do."



   "Sounds good."

   Ivana heart was thumping harder now.The pace and beat of one about to
get into a fight.  Despite this however, her calm tone did not waver.

   "What should I bring?" asked Jenny.



   "Just yourself and that winning smile, Jen.  I've taken care of
everything."



   "Sounds great."

   A long moment went by.  A beat that carried on for what could have been
an hour.  There was a definite tension over the phone.  The two women were
playing up politeness to the point it became almost suffocating.  When the
moment reached its choking point;



   "Alrighty then, looking forward to seein you, dear.  Don't be late."



   "Can't wait, Ivy.  See you at 3..."



   The call ended, and Ivana stood in her bathroom.  The tub steamed with
hot water, awaiting the woman's entry.  Ivana discarded her robe, allowing
the silk to slide her ample form and fall to floor.  Her body was a temple;
the perfect blend of womanly curve and honed muscle.  Any man beholding the
sight of her shedding her garment to reveal her tight, thick, rounded ass
and thighs, her full breasts, sculpted arms, shoulders and taut flat tummy,
would have been left without recourse but to pounce.  Ivana Swallows was a
sight to behold, and dipping her epic body into the steaming water was the
opening act of what was to be a day unlike any other in Coxville County. 
She was preparing herself, mentally and physically, for a final
confrontation.  All the pieces and players had been assembled, and she
would make sure everything played out the way she sought it to.



   Sitting in the tub, Ivana slowly lathered and rubbed herself down,
running through her plan again and again in her head as her hands ran to
and fro on her body.  In only a few hours time, it would all boil down to
one thing; she would prove herself the Queen of Coxville to her friends and
peers.  And, most importantly, she finally put Jenny Summers in her
rightful place...under Ivana's heel.  The mere thought of it left Ivana
unable to contain herself.  And as she wiped and scrubbed gently at her
ample body, a finger or two would periodically brush against the outer lips
of her pussy, teasing herself at the thought of what was to come.

   ...



   "Ok, so, run it by me again...how'd this happen?" asked Harold Summers
as he rounded the checkout aisle.  Both his pasty arms were crossed over
his chest, fully occupied with an assortment of boxed snacks and plastic
packages he'd lifted from his shopping cart.  Both hands were filled to the
brim with beef jerky, an amassment of candy bars, chips and about a half
dozen other roadtrip oriented goods.



   "He-he, you just want to hear the good parts again" chuckled George
Swallows, who was already standing in the grocery line and placing his own
bounty of treats flatly on the black conveyer belt.



   "Oh, come on now, don't try to spin it like I'M the one who is too eager
for the gritty details.  Heck, YOU came runnin to ME about this" rebuked
Summers as he placed the checkout counter divider down, creating a
barricade between his items and George's, and began placing them down the
shifting belt.



   "I'm just trying to get, uh...clarification, on the matter, know what I
mean?"

   Harold may has well been nudging an elbow into his friend's ribs as he
spoke, his voice low yet holding not an ounce of subtlety.  Harold wanted
to hear the story (again), straight from the horses mouth.



   "Alright, alright" said George, batting away Summer's incessant
`insistence' that he recant the tale again, blow-by-blow.



   "So last night, I'm sitting on the couch" began George.  "I'm watching
Dog do his thing, chasin down scumbags and looking like an absolute badass
doing it."

   Harold listened intently, his eyes not taking themselves off George once
as moved the last of his items from the basket to the conveyer belt.



   "When all of a sudden, from behind, I feel a hand start to creep from my
shoulder to my neck, and something small and pointed pressed against my
head."

   "Uh-huh" droned Harold, as if he hadn't heard the tale twice before now.



   "It was so sudden and quiet I jumped half outta my skin.  I was watching
Dog, you know, so where my mindset is, i've got it in my head the thing
pressed against my skull is like a taser or gun something.  And suddenly I
hear;



   "Don't move a muscle, bra!"



   "I turn, and standing there, wearin a smirk sneaky as I don't know what,
is Ivy.  Swear, the woman was a cat-burglar in another life, cuz I didn't
hear her make a sound."



   "Wouldn't be saying much Georgy" chuckled Harold, "your hearing has
always been pretty much shit."

   Hey?  You want hear the rest of the story or not?  can it with the extra
commentary."



   "Well now, pardon me good sir", said Harold, making a half-hearted
little bow as they slowly motion down the aisle.  "By all means, do
continue"



   The girl at the register - a pale and sleepy-eyed, but astounding white
beauty with curly black hair - was moving at what could have been called
(by a generous soul) as a `snail's pace'.  One couldn't exactly blame her
though.  She had started her shift at 5 AM that Saturday morning, before
the sun had even risen.  She lazily went about scanning each and every item
of the previous customers items.  It certainly didn't help matters that she
had gotten only the smallest amount of sleep last night, not leaving
company (bed) of her boyfriend until almost 3 AM.  She wanted to be cross
with him for keeping her up so late, until she recalled what they'd
actually been doing in the wee hours of the morning.

   The customer ahead of Harold and George, a slightly older man with a
balding silver pate, issued no complaint with the girl's less than speedy
pace however.  Her generous cleavage pressed inside her white ill-fitting
flannel gave him more than enough entertainment as he waited for her to
complete her task.  George and Harold made only mild comments about the old
man's blatant ogling of her round pales mounds, and only a few more about
the girl herself.



   "Anyway, as I was sayin.  Ivy's standin there, wearin this little black
number that I have NEVER seen her in before.  She's smilin like she'd just
tricked the fox outta going into the hen house."

   Harold let out a small giggle.  George was just getting to the good
part.



   "And I say; jeezus Ivy, you scared the life outta me!  And she's laughin
her ass off like we're back in high school.  And she says; Oh, I'm sorry, I
just couldn't help myself.  You're just too easy."



   "He-he, ain't that the truth" said Harold.



   "And me, I'm sittin there, trying my best bring my heartbeat down to a
simmer from the small fit she'd just given me, and I say; what on earth's
gotten into you?  She hasn't been the practical joker type
in...sheesh...forever.  Then it happens."



   "Yeah, here we go..." said Harold, eagerly rubbing his hands together in
anticipation.  They were nearing the apex of the anecdote now, and it
hadn't failed to give Harold Summers goosebumps yet."



   "She leans in, real close, towers over me almost.  She's got this
perfume on, swore it smelled like lavender and magic, And Ivy's - well,
without saying too much - you know my wife's got quite the womanly figure
on her."



   "I've noted you a being a very lucky man in that regard" chuckled
Harold.



   "So my Ivy, bein built the way she is, smellin like she was, leans in
real close.  I mean she's practically trying to smother me with her chest,
and she says-"



   "Here we go..." repeated Harold.



   "Nothin tonight...we should remedy that..."

   At this both men let out hardy chuckles openly in the line.



   "I'm tellin you Harry, the extra hours she's been putting in at the
school's straight turned her rabid.  I mean, we must have gone about
four-five times last night.  Huffin and puffin up a storm like we were kids
again.  Would'a swore it was our honeymoon."

   Harold let out a giddy chuckle at this.  "Ooooowe~, Georgey you virile
cad you!"

   By this time the girl at the register had begun on their jolly pair's
grocceries.  George's detailing of the previous night's events had been in
hearing reach of the young dark haired from around the `we should remedy
that ` remark.  She could fill in the blanks from there.  Secretly, she
found the idea of these two old geezers `huffing and puffing' revolting,
but kept such sentiments to herself.



   "I tell you buddy, NOTHING beats having at a gorgeous woman under with
the audible musings of Dog cheering you on in the background."



   "Right you are, brah!".





   The two laughed openly, while the female clerk silently rolled her eyes.





   "After it was all over, we just laid there and talked.  Hadn't dawned on
me til last night how little of that we actually get around to doin these
days."



   "Among other things..." added Harold with a smirk.



   "Truer words never spoken aloud."

   The checkout girl silently went about scanning each item.  The overheard
tale had done nothing but remind her of how much she missed her boyfriend.
It had been a whole nine hours since she'd seen him.  Assessing that much
time as having passed since she'd last gotten laid silently made her
anxious.



   "And we got around to talkin about how we - that's you and I - never
really get around to having any `MEN' time, ya know?"



   "Work has kept me cooped up for a while now" agreed Harold.  "Barely
even see Jenny and Kitty these days."



   "Yep, and you've hung out with the guys even less.  Hence, why this
fishing trip got put together."



   "Heh, pretty last minute, but hey, a trip to the lake sounds like a good
chance of scenery.  I swear, I think I was starting to see everything in
binary because of that danged computer screen."



   "This trip will do us all some serious good, Harry my boy.  The fella's
are already headin down there.  Figured we'd pick up some last minute
supplies, the essentials of course, and head on down behind them.  Two days
of uninterrupted relaxation, MAN style."



   "And how are you doin today, darlin?" said George, his eyes fixed on the
girl's stark blue eyes for the first time.



   She gave the two old geezers a cordial reply, rang them up accordingly,
and granted them a few small giggles at their bad jokes and attempts at
flirtation.  God, she couldn't wait to be off.  She silently thanked Jesus
her shift was ending in only a few minutes.  The clerk rang up their items,
gave them their total.  They paid, loaded the items into their bags, and
she promptly erected the small sign at her cash register reading `Register
Closed'.  DONE, she thought triumphantly, her shift finally ended





   "Thank you kindly darlin" said the old geezers.



   She'd managed to issue as much "have a nice--" before her voice caught
in her throat.  Her gaze had shifted over to the store's entrance.  Her
boyfriend had just walked in.  He'd said he was going to give her a ride,
and had actually shown up early for a change.  She half jumped out her skin
in excitement, her once-weary facial expression melting away in an instant
as she saw his tall muscular form saunter into the store.  She almost
trampled over the two old geezers to race down the aisle and get to her
man. George and Harold had seen the sudden shift in the girl's manner and
tone, and turned to follow her mad-dash as she bolted from around the cash
register.



   "Whoa!" said Geroge, almost colliding with the young woman as she
whizzed by the pair of them in a flash.

   The two men took a moment to admire the girl's hitherto hidden assets,
which were tucked tightly into a pair of blue jeans so form-fitting as to
give the illusion of being painting on, as opposed to being worn.



   "Man oh man" uttered Harold, admiring the girl's taut waist, rounded
hips, toned legs and thighs.  Her behind was a bit big for his taste, but
all-in-all the girl was a vision.



   "Reminds me of that one actress" chimed in George.  "You know, the one
from those stupid romance movies with the sparklin vampires."



   "Yeah..." half-agreed Harold.  "If she hit the gym with Sammy Spitzmen
six days a week".



   The two men chuckled all the way up til they saw the dark haired beauty
leap into the thick chisled arms of the 6 foot plus black youth who entered
the store at that moment.  Harold gave out a nervous cough as they watched
the young thing throw her arms around the negro's muscle strewn shoulders
and wrapped her legs around his waist, his six (or was it eight) pack abs
showing beneath the thin fabric of his white tank top shirt.  The motion of
her suddenly being hoisted in his arms caused his baggy blue jeans to sag
even lower than they had when he'd walked in, giving it the look as though
his pants were altogether about to slip to ground.  She kissed at his
cheek, temple, bald head and full dark lips with little to no consideration
for the sneer of onlookers in the store.  She was officially off the clock
after all, who cared.



   She gripped him tighter, her firm legs tightening around her dark
stallion.  The caused his pants to slip down another inch or so.  This
time, both middle aged men let out a nervous cough, as the front of the
black young man's pants slipped to reveal the front of his boxers.  The
bulge at the front of the black youth's crotch made it look like he'd
smuggled one of those giant kielbasa sausages in the front of his
pants...of the 'thick' and 'jumbo' variety.



   "A-hem!" choked George.



   "Well now..." began Harold.  "Let's uh..."



   "Yeah, let's get goin."

   Without another word, the two men headed out of the store.  They had no
choice but to pass the joyous couple as they sped walk to George's truck to
load up their things.  They caught the deep baritone of the young man
saying;



   "Damn baby, you actin like I ain't just seen you last night.  Figured
you'd be tired by now."

   and the girl's subsequent giggle of;



   "Not for you and that billy club of yours, sugar."

   Harold and George couldn't hold back the beet red blush on their faces
as they rounded the couple and got to the truck.



   "Well..." said Harold, obviously uneasy.



   "Didn't quite see that one comin" ended George.

   The two were silent loading up their goods into the car.  Harold was so
preoccupied loading his portion of the groceries, he hadn't seen the person
walking behind him.  There was a sudden collision of bodies, and Harold
found himself being bumped into the car door.  He suddenly found himself
being berated by the angry bass of another man's voice.



   "HEY!  Watch where you steppin!" boomed the voice.  Harold's heart
skipped a beat.  He hadn't seen the person he'd bumped into, bit the voice
was deep and low.  Most definitely sounded black.



   "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!  So sorry.  So, so-"

   Harold turned, his arms half raised.  He wasn't sure if they were raised
to prepare for a blow, or raised in an 'I surrender' gesture, but they were
raised.  His rapid heartbeat settled only when he saw the face belonging to
the hostile voice, along with George's laughter from the other side of the
vehicle.



   "Ha-Ha!" came the hardy laugh of Coach Black, all 6 plus feet and
two-hundred pounds of him towering above Harold like a jovial black giant.



   "How many times am I gonna get you with that one, Summers?"



   "Jeezus, Coach, you scared the wits outta me."



   "I know, THAT's whats so funny."



   Coach laughed, George laughed and in turn Harold had to let out a bit of
a chuckle as well.  Coach Black and he weren't strictly what one would call
'friends'.  Their history was...complicated...to say the least.  And while
he would have voiced grievance with the negro's prank, he voiced no
complaint.  Doing so would have started an altercation, and Harold Summers
was not one for altercations.  Besides, voicing a dislike for the large
bald black phys.ed teacher would incur questions from George.  Why don't
you and Coach Black like each other, that guys a riot, George would as. 
Harold would then be forced to give reasons as to why he and Black weren't
bosom buddies.



   He'd have to tell him about the looks he'd been giving his wife, Jenny.
The looks that Jenny - despite her not acknowledging or even knowing it -
had given him.  Harold would have to hint of there being the lingering
scent of hostility in the wake of a particular pool party which had
occurred earlier that summer.  The memory of that wasn't something Harold
was going to get into.  He wouldn't let what he saw that ruin his fishing
trip.



   "How goes it fellas!" said Coach Black.



   "It goes, Coach.  Yourself?"



   "Can't complain.  Can't complain at all."



   Coach Black was a mountain of a man.  Tall and thick with mass and
muscle.  Added to this were his masculine good looks; strong squared jaw,
shaped nose, solid cheekbones, etc.  George always compared him to that one
black actor.  "The British guy, the one on that Luther show." Referrence to
his physical prowess was always doubled when Black wore clothing like he
did on this day; a plain white (and rather ill-fitting) polo shirt, track
pants with two white stripes going down the sides, and trainers that looked
like they cost a few hundred dollars easy.  The plainer the outfit Coach
Black wore, the more his amassment of abs, biceps, shoulders and such were
showcased.h He was the envy of most men in town, despite the fact very few
ever made the foolhardy confession of saying so out loud.



   "So, where ya'll two off to?" said Coach.  "Ya'll packed up with more
snacks than truck."



   "Yeah" replied Harold, forcing his mind back to the conversation at
hand. "Me and George are heading out for the weekend."



   "Fishing, out by the lake." added George from his side of the truck.



   "Nice!" came another voice, this one also deep like Black's, but far
less aggressive.



   "Nothing like a good fishing trip to get center oneself." It was then
that Harold noticed.  Noticed the other black man standing beside Coach
Black.



   "Aw, don't you start up wit'cho Zen, Chakra, back-to-mother-earth's-womb
type shit." belted Coach at - who Harold Summers would have sworn - was an
exact clone of himself.  He had to do a double take for a moment, shook his
head the slightest bit.  I must have hit my head against the car or
something, thought Harold.  I'm seeing double.



   "Being out in all that green, water and fresh air, MAN, nothing beats
it!" This man, this double of the Coach, spoke nothing like him.  He was
boisterous, enthusiastic and - though his tone was deep in the manner
common to many blacks in Coxville - held less the harsh, ebonics-like
qualities of the others.  It reminded Harold of a camp-counselor.



   "I...I'm sorry, I...I think I might have hit my head or something.  I'm
seeing double."

   The two black men laughed the same laugh.

   "Been a minute since we heard that one, huh bro?" said the jovial black
man.  He was bald, like Coach Black.  He was tall like Coach Black.  They
were both sculpted from head to toe with beyond impressive athletic muscle.
It was only the difference of facial hair and dress style that set the two
men apart.



   "Can't say I missed it" said Coach.  "I don't think you two have met my
younger brother before."



   "B-Brother?" said both George and Harold.



   "Oh, come off it, Coach" said the clone, the title Coach carried a more
than sarcastic slant to it.



   "Younger by a measly two minutes."



   "Two years, two minutes, you still bringing up the rear."



   "Yeah, yeah, you keep tellin yourself that, bro."



   "Any-damn-way, guys, this is my TWIN brother, Richard" announced Coach.
"Rich, this is Harold Summers and George Swallows.  Local head-honchos in
town...on opposite day."

   Coach chuckled, and George even managed to let out a hardy bark of
laughter at the slight jab.  It always baffled and more than a bit annoyed
Harold, how much George and Coach got along.  George was his best friend,
had been since their youngest days in school.  Yet, whenever Coach Black
turned up, George would suddenly start acting the fool to gain Coach's
favor.  Laughing at his jokes, despite how often they were aimed at him. 
Agreeing with him, despite the fact he knew George didn't agree.  It really
ground his gears to see his best friend suck up to the over-muscled jock.
"Rich just got back in from out of town.  Hasn't been in Coxville in ages."



   "Oh yeah?" inquired George, "where you been all this time?"



   "Here and there mostly" said Rich said with a serene smile.  It was a
cagey answer, but one George simply nodded his head at.

   The brown skinned twin may have physically looked identical to his
sports-nut of a brother, but they dressed completely different from one
another.  Rich wore a rather loose fitting, V-neck shirt of some strange
breed of cloth.  Something that look closer to what one of those spiritual
yogi's would wear in some far off country to the east.  He wore baggy
tanned shorts, jeans that had been cut just beneath the knee.  His large
bare feet sat snug in brown sandles.  Around Rich's neck was adorned a
large wreath of what looked like prayer beads.  They sat loosely around the
highly defined muscles of his neck.



   "I guess here and there had an excellent gym and eating program" said
George, loading the last of his things into the truck.

   Rich laughed at this.  "The world is my gym, sir.  You can be anywhere
in the world and still get in a good workout."



   "Yeah" grunted George, "I'll keep that in mind next time I'm aching to
get some push ups in at the office."



   "My little brother here gets it in when he can.  He's ain't nearly as on
point as me, mind you, but he gets it in."



   "Must everything be a comparison with you, Coach?" said Rich.  "Some
would think all that bluster and boasting is the tell of insecurity."



   "Pfft!  Fuck outta here!" replied Coach.



   "What're ya'll up to?" asked George.



   "Us?" said Coach, "We just picking up a few thangs.  Meat for this
little barbecue that's going down today."



   "Oh yeah?" said George.  "Bit of a hot one to be throwin a barbecue,
ain't it?"



   "Maybe..." replied Coach.  "Its a favor really."



   "What's her name?" chuckled George.

   At this, Coach issued his own chuckle in confession.  "Hey, you know how
it goes G.  When a Coxville woman asks a man to provide the meat, you KNOW
he's got no choice but to oblige."



   "Ha!  Here here brother!  Get'er done brah!"



   "You know I will" said Coach, a knowing smirk etched on his face that
George didn't catch.  George turned his car key in the ignition, which
caused the vehicle to spring to life.



   "Let's hit the road, Harry!" called George to Harold, who was staring
hard at the black pair.

   Harold wanted to ask Coach something.  Wanted to demand where this
'barbecue' was being held.  Who was hosting it?  What favor?  About a half
dozen other probing and pointed questions that ran through his mind in
quick succession.  However by the time he'd worked up his voice to ask the
first-

   *BEEP BEE~EP!* blared the sound of the truck's horn.

   "Earth to Summers, we've got miles and miles to go hombre.  Let's get
moving." Harold sighed.  Black and his twin brother were already heading
into the store.



   "Peace, gentlemen!  Safe travels!" called Rich over the blare the
truck's engine.

   Harold, defeated, slumped his shoulders and wiped the thought from his
head.  He was (probably) just being paranoid.  Paranoid and out of sorts.
Lord knew he had ample reason to be suspicious but...something held him
back from pursuing confrontation.  He couldn't place his finger on what
made him not act more aggressive towards the negro coach.  It wasn't the
thought of conflict...not really.  It was something else.  Some nagging
urge that impelled to him to keep quiet on the matter, for fear of
disrupting what he'd fashioned to be a - more or less - perfect life.  The
looming 'If' of Coach and his wife hung over him, and yet Harold Summers
still shrugged it off.



   "I'm coming, hold your dang horses!" he said, throwing the last of his
items in the back of the truck and speed-stepping over the passenger side.
He hopped inside Geroge's truck and gave one final look at the store in the
faint expectation of seeing Coach Black and his brother entering the store.
Instead he saw the young couple from before.  The overly muscled black
youth in the tank-top, and the gorgeous store clerk girl with the black
hair.  They walked out of the store, hand-in-hand and with a fire in their
eyes that told Harold all he needed to know about how the young pair
planned on spending the rest of their Saturday.  The sight made Harold
Summers gulp nervously.  He was being paranoid, he knew it...and yet, he
would spend most of the drive to the lake in an uneasy silence.  Running
through every conceivable scenario in his head.

   You know how it goes the booming voice of Coach Black would
occassionally echo in Harold's head.  When a Coxville woman asks a man to
provide the meat, you KNOW he's got no choice but to oblige.

   *GULP!*

   The Swallows' residence was in the midst of preparation.  From top to
bottom, Ivana moved about the grand two story suburban home, a beyond
efficient cleaning machine.  Every surface wiped down, every speck of dust
removed, every dish washed.  Though the gathering was set to take place in
the large living room of the abode, Ivana worked like a fiend to have every
corner and crevasse of the house looking spotless.  She'd have nothing
short of perfection today, from the floors, to the table, fine china to
various home furnishings.  When everything was complete, the large serving
table in the next room over awaiting the various bringing's of the home's
guest, Ivana lounged on the large red couch positioned at the far northern
end the living room.



   Ivana, much the rest of her home, looked nothing short of immaculate. 
She wore her white vest and teal min-skirt, along with her favorite pair of
white high heels.  Her vest, on the cusp of ill-fitting, showcased her
taught shoulders and toned smooth arms and bunched her tremendous chest
inside its fabric.  The skirt she wore clung to her thick womanly curves,
teasing the meaty but muscular portions of her thighs and showcasing her
rounded bubble butt from virtually any angle.  The busty nurse looked
simply stunning, her body a temple shrouded in compact cloth.



   It was 2:54 in the afternoon, mere minutes away from the time her guests
would arrive.  Her plan had been put in motion from the time she'd made
those four earlier.  Her final, aggressive, gambit against Jenny Summers
put into play hours ago.  In actuality, it had all begun for the luscious
brunette nurse even earlier than that day.  Yes, Ivana Swallows had decided
what had to be done, what she had to do, some days prior.  It had struck
her one evening, the very same night of her secret foray into dark
territory with several VERY able-bodied black men at her job.  The plan
came together like a set of puzzle pieces, simplistic in how the parts
connected to form a whole.  That night, after she'd finished pleasuring
herself for the second or third time to the memory of those big black bulls
having at her ample figure, she'd put it all into play.



   In order for her plan to work, the first variable that needed to be
removed, was her husband.  She sauntered to him that night in that same
living room, still riding the wave of carnal euphoria from pounding she'd
taken.  Ivana had found herself feeling playful that evening.  She used it
to her advantage.  Creeping up to her husband, she made a game of seducing
him.  Giving him a light scare whilst he watched that ridiculous bounty
hunting show of his.  She could hear the sound of the television as she
silently crept down the stairs from their bedroom and into the large space
of their home.



   "Don't move, brah!" came the booming voice from the tv.



   The man sounded ridiculous, brah and all that talk.  But she used it to
advantage all the same.  It was all to easy to creep up on George, get the
drop on him by placing a finger to the back of his head and mimicking the
voice of the large bounty-hunting lummox (whom she could tell from but a
glance of the tv was only hiding about 5.4 inches inside his tight
stone-washed jeans), wouldn't even be worth the time she thought.  It was
all too easy to scared her little husband, as he jumped a foot in the air
upon being startled from his place on the couch.  She laughed, chittered at
his moment of fear like she was young again.  She hadn't had that much
messing with a boy since college.



   They'd had a moment then, a shared laugh at how good Ivana had gotten
her rotund hubby.  She used that to her advantage.  It was all to easy to
proceed from there.  She was still horny, her pussy hungry for more cock.
As she leaned in and gave her husband the hint of her desire, she
admittedly let her thoughts drift back to earlier that day.  She recalled
being bent over her check-up, being hammered with no mercy by big black
cocks.  The large powerful things invading her open holes again and again.
As she licked at her man's ear and went on to remove the belt of his pants,
Ivana remembered sucking and kneading, choking and sputtering on big black
poles and large round balls that made her husband's look simply comedic in
comparison.  By the time she'd worked George's pants off, he was already
rock hard (5.7 inches erect).  Gazing at the skinny erected pink think, she
had to hold in a laugh.

   She remembered ZJ, a regular titan of a man with near jet-black skin,
mounting her.  She remembered the tall black athlete cramming his long
chocolate cock into her begging pink holes.  The memory made her wet.  She
wanted more, and though her husband's cock couldn't even come close to
satiating her rising lust, it would do for the time being.  She rode George
that night, wild, hard and with about as much as her black bull's would
have given her if they'd been beneath her instead of her husband.



   "Fuck me, fuck me, baby!" Ivana moaned, her appetite for man-flesh
controlling her words as she ground her hips down on her husband's soft
marshmallowy his, her hands holding him down at his soft man-boobs.



   And all the while, flashing images of Ivana being spread, gaped, gagged
and pummeled by three jumbo sized members the color of ebony.  She couldn't
fight it after a while.  Couldn't fight the pleasure of how much the rush,
the punishment from those big nigger dicks.  The memory made her lash out
at George, who could do not but clutch at the couch pillows, the arm-rest,
struggle to get his hands around her large round bosoms as she hopped up
and down upon him.  George's cock couldn't even come close to hitting Ivana
as deep as Z.J.  could.  At best it would poke what meager inches he had
into her and strike up the urge in her to feel more.  The gorgeous brunette
longed to be filled up once again.  And though George could not deliver on
this, the inches that did get inside her drove her mad all the same.



   "Harder, HARDER!" she demanded, a picture of the two master-sized cocks
belonging to the school janitors slamming her exposed holes from two fronts
crossing her mind.

   Ivana wanted to come.  Wanted to feel that release ever so desperately.
George could see this, and did everything in his power not to let his load
go too quickly.  It was torture trying to do so.  The black sheer night
gown Ivana had been wearing left little to the imagination, and his wife's
ample parts exposed from beneath the fabric looked simply astonishing when
flexed against the soft blue glow of their television screen.



   "Ugh!  Oh!  Oh!  My!" grunted and groaned George.  Even on their
honeymoon, Ivana had never been like this.  Even when they were a young
couple, he had never seen her this aggressive, this (dare he think it)
animalistic.

   The woman jumping up and down on his hard pinkish shaft wasn't his wife.
Couldn't have been.  The woman fucking him senseless - riding him so hard
she was knocking much needed breaths out of his chest with each big bounce
of her full hips and powerful round ass that night - was a woman possessed.
Ivana carried on for another few moments,



   "Come on, come ON!  Harder, HARDER!  FUCK ME HARDER!" she demanded, and
ground herself down onto him so hard he swore his pelvis would snap like
firewood.  Eventually, the woman looked down at the overwhelmed Swallows.
The eyes that pierced him weren't the eyes of his often irritable,
health-nut of a wife.  The scanning deep green pupils that were cast down
on him were the ones belonging to a fiend.  A succubus in every manner sans
name.  And it was that eye contact, Ivana glaring down at him while
pouncing on his pitiful cock, that he found himself unable to hold on any
longer.



   "FUCK ME!  FUCK ME!" she howled.



   "UUUUGGGHHOOOOHHHH GOSH!!!" bellowed George beneath her, clutching her
to him and burying his face between her large round mounds, conquered by
her lower body dropping itself without mercy on his manhood.

   His white cum spurted out in a swift pop of muscle and force, woefully
less than the amount those black monsters had shot onto her.  She
remembered being hosed by the trio of negroes, and was let down to feel
only a small flexing of George's stiff cock surrender what felt like a few
drops into her soaking wet womanhood.



   "Oh gosh, oh my GOSH!" whimpered George, over and over again weakly,
like a small chant to calm his taxed body.

   He went limp, his body relaxing against hers.  She feigned the same. 
She lay atop him, nowhere near satisfied, but pleased with the certainty of
knowing that -now- George would do whatever she asked.  The Swallows couple
made idle chit-chat over the noise and clamor of the television,which had
served as rough background noise for all ten minutes of the event.  George
was out of breath.  She hadn't even broken a sweat.



   "I *huff* have *huff*NO idea what's gotten into you, Ivy *huff* but I
gotta say *huff* I LOVE it."



   "Works got me all riled up" said Ivana, not lying...not really.  "Girls
gotta get her way some how, right?"



   "Yes indeed, wife.  Yes indeed."

   From there it was the easiest thing in the world to get George talking
about what he needed.  It was even easier for her to suggest him taking a
load off that weekend.  Taking a vacation so as to get away from all the
stress of work and whatnot.



   "You and Harold haven't had much time for yourselves in a while", she
said, the thoughtful glint in her eyes hidden from his view as she lay her
head upon his chest.

   George agreed.  He and Harry hadn't had a vacation in a coon's age. 
After what he just had with his wife, some time with the boys would just in
order.  He could hardly keep the story contained long enough to tell his
best chum Harold.



   "Yeah...you got a point" he said.  From there, it was the easiest thing
in the world for construct the idea of George 'taking the weekend' to go
fishing.

   "I'll just stay here, eagerly waiting for you come back and give me some
more of this monster right here." Ivana lied, gripping George's spent cock
and chuckling the slightest bit at the joke.

   "Yeah...yeah that sounds like a great idea, actually."

   "That's why you married me, dear" said Ivana.  In her mind, she was
already making preparations for what would follow.

   It was the easiest thing in the world, and now - hours later - Ivana
Swallows was sitting in her empty home, awaiting her guests.  She sipped
idly at a glass of ice-water, looking at the clock mounted above the
television.  2:59 PM.  Any moment now, Ivana thought.  It would start as
soon as-

   *DING-DONG!*

   The ring of the doorbell came just as the clock shifted from 2:59 to
3:00 PM.  Must be BB, thought Ivana.  The woman took the phrase 'sharp'
without a hint of ease.  Punctual was Bianca Blackwood to a fault.  Ivana
Swallows then rose from her seat on the couch and strolled over to her
large front door.  A mirror was mounted on the wall to the left of the
entrance space of the house.  She took one more moment to admire herself in
the mirror.  She loved her body, she knew she looked good - no - GREAT. 
She knew what her body was capable of, and she knew her mind to be sharp.
And by the end of today, Jenny Summers would know this to be true as well.
"Here goes nothing" said Ivana to her reflection, her sly smith etched
across her full luscious lips.

   Ivana Swallows was ready, and in a quick motion of her toned arm, opened
the door to reveal her first guest.

   ...
3:00 PM;

   Ivana Swallows opened her front door to find Bianca Blackwood (as
expected), standing on her doorstep.



   "BB~!" said Ivana, her voice a light squeal at the sight of her big
blonde friend.



   "Hey Ivy~" came BB, a low warm greeting in response.

   The blonde high school teacher held a giant basket in her sculpted arms.
Bianca, as usual, looked stunning.  She wore a simple creme colored blouse,
black skirt (which was perhaps a little too confining for her figure) and
matching black heels which made her already impressive height of 5'10" jut
up to 6' by Ivana's guess.  "3 on the dot" said Ivana, making a
mock-gesture of looking at her wrist as though it held a watch.  "You grade
fast, hon"

   Bianca chuckled as she stepped passed the threshold and into the
suburban home.

   "Yes, yes" the tall blonde confessed, 'didn't take me long to get fed up
with papers after our talk on the phone.  I just needed a reprieve from all
those fragmented sentences and grammatical errors."



   "I'm well aware, dear.  Bianca Blackwood; the bane of poor english."



   "I swear, Ivy.  If I never came across the word therefore again in life,
I'll die a happy woman."

   Ivy escorted Bianca in and guided her to the kitchen, where she sat down
the big covered basket.

   "So, what did you bring?" asked Ivy.

   Bianca smiled and unveiled the white cover of the basket to reveal a
lavish batch of decorated muffins.  Chocolate, apple, cinnamon, blue-berry,
and assortment of goodies that sat compacted into their sealed space.  Ivy
laughed at the sight of the delicious array.



   "You just couldn't help yourself, could you?" she asked.



   "Its the only way Sammy will learn, hon."



   Sammy Spitzmen, the pairs' close and accident-prone girlfriend, was a
dedicated health nut.  If it didn't benefit her stellar physique, then it
wouldn't get into her mouth.  This invariably would be a source of
contention between the big blonde and the super-fit ginger.  Bianca
Blackwood, though by no means out of shape in her own right, was often
criticized - albeit jovially - by the lively redhead.  Questions such, are
you really gonna eat that BB?  Its almost pure sugar and assessments like;
that's gonna go straight to your thighs, BB were regular words conveyed. 
Bianca, always willing to try and compromise, attempted to try what Sammy
considered healthier alternatives.  This in turn led to, what the
housewives infamously refer to as, the 'kale-muffin debacle'.  In short, BB
expressed an avid dislike in Sammy's healthy snack selections, referring to
it more than once as 'food fit for rabbits'.  The insult sparked the
athletic Sammy into one of her rare moments of anger, and countered with a
comment carrying the words of "bondakadonk".



   The argument had been quelled by Ivana and Jenny before it had time to
escalate into something worse, yet the slightest hints of lingering
animosity could still occasionally be sense between the blonde and the
redhead whenever the issue of group meals came about.  On occassions like
this, during gatherings like this, Bianca would make it an essential point
to bring something delicious to the group.  Delectable treats that she
simply knew the girls would not be able to resist.  Their enjoyment of the
muffins would soundly put down Sammy's strict health-food stance by a mere
display of numbers.



   "You know she means well, BB.  She's just trying to look out for
everybody's health."



   "Understood and appreciated....but she can shove her kale muffins in the
place least kissed by the sun."

   The two laughed, and proceeded to chitchat about various things.  Ivana
went about some last minute preparations, while BB helped when needed.  It
had been some time since the two had had a moment to themselves.  Bianca
and Ivana worked together, yet hadn't had time to really interact in some
weeks.



   "So, how's the study going?" asked Bianca.



   "It goes..." said Ivana plainly.  And goes, and goes, and goes she added
in her head, remember ZJ's stamina.  "How's Jeb and my two cuties?" replied
Ivana.



   "They're good~" cooed Bianca.  They keep asking when 'auntie Ivy' is
going to come visit."

   Bianca's two children - ages four and two - were quite fond of Ivana,
and Ivana - despite her typical apprehension with kids - adored them as
well.



   "Awwww!" Ivana cooed in repsonse.  "You tell my two little angels that
auntie Ivy will come 'round as soon as she has a spare minute from all this
work."



   Bianca moved about the living room, helping Ivana when she could in
preparing the home for visitors.  Two kids, and she's still looks amazing,
thought Ivana.  The issue of kids had been a rather touchy issue with
Ivana. Ever since she'd married Geroge, the topic of having children was
one she'd - rather skillfully - managed to dodge and hitherto evade. 
George was all for the idea.  He simply couldn't wait to populate their
home with the pitter-patter of tiny Swallows feet.  Ivana however, wasn't
so quick to have her belly expand beyond reason.  Wasn't so eager to watch
her body swell and puff up, her temper and mood (already noted by many as
being short and fiery) randomly shifting into irratic territory, to watch
her food cravings take bizarre turns from light and healthy to salty and
slathered with grease.  And, after going through that and the 'miracle of
childbirth' she'd then get to spend months (if not years) at Sammy's mercy
in the ever-dwindling hope of - some day - whipping herself back into some
semblance of shape.  Running miles upon miles, lifting pounds upon pounds
of weight and engaging in endless bouts of interval training to in the HOPE
she'd regain half of her previous form and muscle.

   And all this was before mentioning how she'd have to put her career on
hold.  Ivana couldn't even fathom the notion of NOT working, NOT having
more things to achieve than what was possible in the available hours of the
day.  Oh no, kids were a definite 'no thanks' riding the fast track to
'hell no' territory.



   Bianca Blackwood was a glimmer of hope though.  Hope that Ivana wouldn't
have to sacrifice everything so completely.  BB remained a teacher (if a
frustrated one) long after she'd had her kids.  Bianca had, especially,
managed to bounce her body back into peak shape afterwards as well. 
Watching the tall blonde motion this way and that out of the corner of her
eye, she noted the flexing of her leg muscles, arms, shoulders and her
thighs - thick, toned and full in the way Ivana identified most black women
as being.  Two kids later and Bianca still held a firmness and definition
that couldn't be trumped by mostly all the women she knew.  And even with
the few 'flaws' Bianca had - her particularly round and protruding ass had
always a sore spot for BB - made her look stunning really.

   Ivana didn't quite know how to describe it, but BB's bubble butt (in the
most recent days) gave Ivy the slightest pang of yearning, envy even, when
catching the blonde teacher's side profile or watching her big rear end
subtly bounce and jiggle whilst walking in front of her.  It was strange.
Ivana had never appraised Bianca in such a way.  Had never felt like her
giant ass had been anything to be envious over.  In her mind, Ivy
correlated this sudden attraction to large rear ends as being tied to her
encounter with ZJ in her office.  As she went about setting a few glasses
onto the nearby table in the living room, she toyed with the silly thought
of; is it possible to pass on particular physical likes through sex?  Could
ZJ and the two janitors have fucked a liking of big butts into her?  At
this, Ivana could only laugh.



   "Where do you want these things, Ivy?" said Bianca, stirring the
brunette nurse from her inner-musings.



   "W-what?" stammered Ivy.  "Sorry dear, I was miles away there for a
minute." Bianca held a small stack of plates in her hands.  Ivy guided her
on where to put them.  By her estimation, they would be receiving their
next guest in a matter of moments.  Ivana checked the time on her
cell-phone, and went to the further end of the house, out into her backyard
where her pool and - more importantly - George's giant cooking grill
resided.



   "You're planning on using the grill, Ivy?" asked Bianca, who had
followed her out into the area.



   "Yeah" replied Ivana, a smile on her face that Bianca failed to identify
for its hidden mischievousness.  "Why not?  Its a beautiful day.  All the
girls are meeting up for the first time in what feels like ages...why not
have some meat on the menu for us..." Bianca, unaware of what sat beneath
Ivy's word, smiled at the thought.



   "That actually sounds pretty nice" confessed Bianca.  "Where's the meat
though?  I didn't see any in the fridge."



   "Oh, don't worry" said Ivana, kneeling behind the monstrous grill and
momentarily being unseen by the big blonde.  Bianca only heard Ivana's
grunt the slightest bit as she fiddled with some mechanism at the back of
the huge cooking machine.  After another moment, Ivana rose from behind the
thing and adjusted her shirt,



   "The meats is on its way..."

   *DING-DONG!* ...

   ...
3:36 PM

   "Hey ya'll~--w-whoa!" came Sammy Spitzmen as she attempted to step into
the

   Swallows' house.  Attempted, for as she stepped into the lavish abode,
the front of her blue beach sandal had -somehow- managed to snag itself in
the threshold, jolting her forward and knocking her off balance.



   "Whoa!" came Ivana.



   "Careful!" cried Bianca Blackwood.

   Luckily the two women were close enough to the clumsy redhead that they
were able catch her fall.  Ivana, with a swiftness not hinted to by her
curvy body, motioned forward and caught the clumsy ginger at the shoulders
before she tumble full over onto her knees.  In that same moment, Bianca
had just managed to grab the large wicker basket that Sammy had been
carrying from her fumbling hands, before its contents had a chance to be
hurled about the house interior.



   "There you go, I got you." said Ivana, hoisting the girl up.



   "Dang it!" cursed Sammy, straightening herself up and doing her absolute
best to play off the near-miss.  "Danged sandals." The trio then went about
their greetings of hugs and squealing hellos.



   "Hey Ivy~!"



   "Good to see you, Sammy."



   "Hey BB!"



   "Long time no see, hon."

   After this, the trio made their way to the kitchen, where they set down
the enormous basket of fresh fruit that Sammy had brought for their
gathering.  Sammy only put up a moderate fuss over the muffins Bianca had
brought.  Bianca swiftly put down her protests by bringing up the
kale-muffin incident, after-which the two reached a swift - if uneasy -
stalemate on the matter,out of respect to Ivana not wanting to have to
break up another argument between the blonde and the red head.



   "Wow, these look great Sammy" said Bianca, observing the bounty of
beautiful grapes and strawberries, delectable figs and bananas.  In the
center of the assortment were a slew of almonds and,

   "Brought these special for BB" added Sammy.  A bar of pure chocolate.



   "Wow, they really set you up nice over there, Sammy."



   "Clerk must have a serious crush on you to give you all this."



   "Wha?" came Sammy, her face genuinely perplexed at the concept.  "No
way, we're just friends.  He's always really nice to me when I go in for my
usual stuff."



   "Uh-huh" replied Ivy.



   "I'm certain your walking in the store every week dressed like that has
NOTHING to do with it" added Bianca.

   Sammy appraised herself.  She was wearing a white t-shirt that had been
cut into a midriff and read "Black Iron Gym" scrawled across the chest in
wild bold text, barbells making up the 'B' in the spelling.  The shirt
exposed Sammy's beyond taut and toned stomach, obliques and back, with the
slim pair of yoga pants flawlessly outlining her amazing lower half.  Her
athletic thighs, firm legs and strong - yet still remarkably bubbly- ass
was on display underneath the tight fitting garments, a sight that would
make any man ache and any woman suddenly want to renew their gym
membership.



   "What's wrong with what I've got on?" asked Sammy, genuinely puzzled at
the accusation.



   Her innocent face, bright green eyes and natural girlish beauty most
definitely did not deduct from Sammy Spitzmen's appeal.  Her Scottish
heritage had endowed her with radiant milky white skin, and her button nose
(a product of her grandmother it was said) served as the centerpiece of her
perfectly symmetrical face.  Many a time Sammy - whether she knew it or not
- was a distraction to those that would gaze upon her.  If it wasn't her
stunning body or gorgeous face, it was her genuinely sweet demeanor that
brought people to heel.  And all that wrapped around a singular flaw with
the red head; unless she was cleaning, working out or (as she most recently
learned) fucking the brains out of someone (in vice versa) the woman was a
walking accident.

   Slips, spills, crashes, trips, collisions, whether nailed down or loose,
Sammy would find a way to harm herself with it.



   "Oh, nothing" said Ivy, feigning disinterest as she observed a dark
grape in his fingers before popping the small treat into her mouth.



   "I mean, its not like you look like you're on your way to film a porno
or anything."



   "HEY~!" retorted Sammy, half insulted but not fully unable to keep a
smirk off her face.  She couldn't let on to her friends that, only a few
days ago, she had been performing physical feats with her 'physical
fitness' trainer that would most definitely would have merited praise and
verse in adult film industry.



   "You guys said it was just us girls hanging out today.  Nothin fancy, so
after I got back home from the gym and showered, I just...you know, threw
whatever on."



   "Of course" said Bianca, her tone sounding thoroughly unswayed and
unconvinced as she peeled the skin off of a banana.  "Whatever' being a
shirt my four-year old would complain is too small".

   The two older women teased Sammy with half-suppressed laughter.  Not
mean spirited, but more the laughter two older sisters would engage in at
the momentary expense of their younger sibling.



   "Oh, shut up, BB!" squeaked Sammy, her attempt at sounding angry coming
out more like a little girl's plea.  This caused the two other women to
only laugh louder.  Whether she was aware of it or not, the red head was
subtly tugging down the bottom hem of her small shirt, the rounded
undersides of her large DD breasts actually showing a bit whenever she
raised her arms too high.  Sammy, in her haste, hadn't put on a bra that
day.  She generally found them confining and dreaded putting them on, in
that she'd had suffered several 'mishaps' while trying to put the danged
things in the past.



   "So, how's hard-hat Steve doing these?" asked Ivana.



   "He's good..." said Sammy, flatly.  Something in her voice hinted as her
not being all that certain.



   "He still too pooped to give you a proper pounding?" Sammy sighed,
"Jeez, I should have never told you about that, Ivy."



   "So, that's a yes then?" Said Ivana.



   "He's just been really busy lately is all" said Sammy in her husband's
defense.  "He's working back-to-back hours these days.  He's really fixated
on adding to the house next summer, adding a third story and all that, so
he's gotta put in the work to get the money for it."



   "You should walk around in little numbers like that, maybe that'll
inspire him to put some 'work in'."



   "Ivy, don't be a jerk.  My Stephen works his buns off.  Least I can do
is keep up the house and keep him fed."



   "Nothing wrong with that, Sammy" said Bianca, taking a bite of the now
bare banana.



   "Just saying, a man's reward after a long hard day at work should be
having at his wife" rebuked Ivana, popping another grape into her mouth.



   "Oh, because you're the expert on that, right Ivy?" countered Bianca in
Sammy's defense.



   "Why yes, yes I am." replied Ivana, recalling how she'd solidified
George's fishing trip.



   "Oh, don't pay her any mind, Sammy.  Ivy's just trying to give you a
hard time because she's jealous of how stunning you look."

   Sammy blushed, another girlish feature that many found irresistible.



   "I must say, I didn't think you could possibly look any fitter Sam, but
wow!  You finally just decide 'to with it' and just started living in the
gym, or what?" Sammy giggled, "Nah, nothing like that..." she said,
grabbing a fig out of the basket.  "I mean, I started up a bit of a new
routine at the gym...but...yeah."



   "New routine?" said Bianca, curious.  "Do tell."



   Sammy suddenly found herself clamming up.  She couldn't tell the girls
what her new 'routine' had consisted of.  The two women were astute in
noting something different about Spitzmen.  She was different, though it
pertained less to her physique and more to her demeanor.  Yes, her regular
trysts with Dwayne had proved to be an excellent addition to her 'workout'.
Their exhausting sessions in the showers, locker room and steam room of the
Olympian Gym had left her showing muscle lines in places she hadn't even
known were possible to form.  Yet, less than her appearance, it was in how
she carried herself.  When she wasn't falling flat onto her face or
knocking things over, Sammy Spitzmen - in these recent days - had begun
convey a kind of radiance to her not previously noted by her family and
friends.  An unspoken confidence and poise that she had previously kept
hidden to the confines of her home, while facing herself naked in the
mirror and observing her masterpiece of a figure.  That same confidence,
peppered with her genuinely sweet and innocent personality, had formed into
something 'more' in the gorgeous red head, an amalgam of physical and
mental training that - evidently - those closest to her couldn't ignore.



   "Oh, you know" replied Sammy after a moment.  "Just some new stretching
and strength training exercises I've been doin.  Plus some really REALLY
intense cardio mixed in between."



   "Hmmmm..." said Bianca, clearly interested.



   "Dwa-I mean- this new trainer I've been working with is
really...intense. Doesn't let me slow down for a minute.I guess its paying
off."



   "I'll say" agreed Bianca.  "Your arms and shoulders look spectacular".

   Bianca motioned in and began touching on Sammy's shoulders, pressing and
prodding them with her long fingers.  The act caused Sammy to giggle a bit,
Bianca's hands tickling her at the touch.



   "And I didn't even think it was possible for your abs to look any more
defined." Bianca ran a hand across Sammy's flat stomach.



   "He-he, cut it out BB, that tickles." said Sammy.



   "Maybe I should start going with you to the gym again" Bianca suggested.
"This trainer fellow sounds like some sort of fitness guru."



   "Yeah" agreed Ivana, "Think he'd be willing to take on all three of us?"
Sammy gave a moment's admittance to the notion of her 'sharing' Dwayne with
Ivana and Bianca.



   "Well..." the red head thought, pondering the question.  "I know he's
really busy most days.  I can barely fit him in to my-- I mean- he can
barely fit people into his schedule." "Ah, well" said Bianca, backing down,
but not altogether willing to let the issue die.  "You let me know.  If he
has an opening, tell him you've got a girlfriend who most definitely wants
to get abs like yours."



   "Sure thing.  I'll let him know next time I see him.  Heck, he might
even be a real miracle worker and finally be able to convince you too to
get some squats in.  Don't think I didn't notice that extra jiggle on you
two's buns as I walked in." At this, the blonde and brunette shot a glance
to each other, playing oblivious.



   "We'll see about that" said Ivana, keeping her verdict on the matter
mum.



   "I'm actually ok with that, Sammy." The red head cocked an eyebrow.



   "Oh, don't give me that look, Samantha Spitzmen" rebuked Bianca.  "I
realized these last few weeks that men - real men - actually LIKE women
with round asses.  Sammy couldn't argue against this, she'd spent enough
time with Dwayne now to notice that the man indeed did like bigger
posteriors on his women.  Don't trip though babe, he'd then assure her, yo
ass is a masterpiece though.  Its perfect.

   "Besides" Bianca added, turning away from the two other women suddenly,
showing them her epic bottom confined inside her skirt.  "REAL women have
curves anyway, and know JUST how to use them to make her man roar."



   Bianca then made a small show of taking long, languid steps from the
kitchen into the living room, struting and swaying her hips from side to
side like a model on an invisible catwalk.  Ivana and Sammy couldn't help
laughing at the display, enjoying this new - outwardly comical - Bianca
Blackwood.  Silently, Sammy couldn't help but be a little bit transfixed at
the show BB was putting on for them.  She had to admit, the bounce and sway
of Bianca's big round ass was rather hypnotizing.



   Whenever Sammy rode atop her man Dwayne, she couldn't ignore being more
than a bit turned on to turn and see her reflection in the mirror of the
empty weight room to see her own rounded little bottom bouncing atop his
massive black.  It made her wet just remembering it.  She hadn't had Dwayne
that day.  The secret pair were planning on meeting up that day to get in
some 'extra cardio', but her black bull had called her at the very last
minute to cancel their slated tryst.  Something urgent came up, I'll have
to catch you next time, was all his text message said.  Sammy was angry all
the way up til she read the following text message of; take this
opportunity to rest up and get your strength back.  I'll be going twice as
hard on you next session.



   The tease of Dwayne coming back at her with a vengeance made her ache
for more BBC.  Satisfying herself in the showers after her workout did
nothing to ease her desire to be pounded balls deep by her chiseled ebony
god.



   And now, wathcing Bianca, something else stirred inside the redhead. 
She noted the difference in her blonde friend as well, and it - curiously -
rekindled a few sparks of lust in the same vane Dwayne did.  Indeed,
something had most definitely changed in Bianca.  Bianca, once conservative
and reserved in manner and speech to a fault, had suddenly become
easy-going and, some would even say, even the slightest bit haughty.  She
was still a grammer-nazi, Sammy couldn't say that had changed in the
extremely curvy blonde.  But she was no longer afraid of her figure being a
topic of discourse.  No, now she actually enjoyed talking her large round
ass, cited it as being a tool to make men 'roar'.  I never realized how
sexy Bianca is, thought Sammy.  Ivana noticed this at around the same time
Sammy did, and the two welcomed it jovially.



   "Well, look at you, Mrs.Blackwood.  All pomp and swagger.  What's Jeb
been doin to you at night?"

   Bianca spun on her heel, facing the girls and making a big gesture of
swinging her hair round her shoulder.



   "Why, what ever do you mean, Mrs.Swallows?" said Bianca, putting her
best Marilyn Monroe expression on.

   From there, the mood eased greatly and the girls finding themselves more
relaxed now in each others company, went about snacking on the fruit
basket. They feared the bounty would be gone by the time Anya and Jenny had
arrived, and eventually relocated to the living room in order to separate
themselves from the delicious treats.  Some time went by.



   "Anybody hear from Jenny or Anya yet?" asked Sammy.

   "They said they would be here" replied Ivana, playing just the slightest
bit dumb on how soon she knew her final two guests would arrive.



   "Well, you know Anya will show up dead last.  She can't go to the store
without prettying herself up from head to toe."

   This was true.  Anya White was, in one degree or another, a model by
profession.  The black-haired Russian refused to go anywhere looking in any
degree what she considered to be 'slovenly'.  She'd take as much time as
she needed to prepare herself for any outing.



   "Jenny will likely be here any minute" assured Bianca.  "Girl won't show
up a second later than what's considered fashionably late."



   "She'll get here when she gets here" added Ivana, unable to keep a
sneaky grin from forming on her face.

   The trio got to the topic of trying to guess what the other girls would
bring to their gathering.  Bianca brought up the matter of Ivana using the
barbecue grill.



   "Oh, Ivy dear, what was it you were planning on doing with the meat?"
asked Bianca.



   "Meat?" asked Sammy, her head scanning between the nurse and the
teacher. "You guys are cooking meat?"



   "That's the plan" said Ivana.



   "Well, Ivy has the idea that she's going to use the barbecue out back.
But, I do say, it'll be a bit difficult to pull off without meat, hon."
"Yeah, I didn't see nothin in the fridge" added Sammy.



   "Any-thing, Sammy" corrected Bianca.



   "Huh?" replied Sammy.



   "Any-thing!  Not 'nothin'.  For Pete's sake Sammy, have I not brushed
off onto you in ANY way?"

   In response, Sammy simply said,



   "I dunno..." before shrugging her shoulders and popping the remains of a
fig into her mouth.  Bianca simply sighed.



   "Like I told you earlier, BB, the meat's taken care of.  I'm having a
friend bring it to us."

   At this, both the blonde and the red head raised a brow at Ivana's
comment.  There's was something sitting in the way Ivana uttered the word
'friend'.  A hint of sarcasm paired with intent in her tone.  "Who?" both
women said in unison, all too curious now as to how Ivana's little barbecue
plan was slated to play out.

   * DING-DONG!*



   "Oh!" bellowed Sammy suddenly upon hearing the sound.  "Bet'cha that's
Jenny now!".  Sammy then sprung her seat on the bolted to the front door.



   "No running, Sammy!" called Ivana from her seat on the couch.  "We don't
want you breaking anything."

   Her words fell on deaf ears, for the energetic redhead had rounded the
open threshold of the living room entrance, a redish-white blur that would
likely stumble at any moment.



   "I swear, she's like a hyperactive puppy" groaned Bianca.

   There was someone at the door, and it wasn't Jenny Summers.  No, not
yet, thought Ivana, lounging on her couch like a dark-haired queen on her
throne.  But when she does get here, I'll have something really special
prepped for her.  She just hoped the blonde BBC slut wouldn't show up too
late.  The look on her face upon realizing Ivana's trump card would be
delicious.  The mere notion of it made the busty brunette smile, and - to a
much more secretive degree - grow the slightest bit moist between her legs.

   ...
4:07 P.M.



   "Zdravstvuy , krasivaia devushka!" < "Hello, beautiful lady!" > said
Anya White at the sight of Sammy on the other side of the door.







   "Anya!!!" said Sammy in a squeal of delight at the sight of the gorgeous
black haired Russian woman.



   Anya was given barely enough time to traverse the threshold and enter
the house proper before the athletic redhead was upon her, wrapping her
slim but extremely toned arms around her and giving a fierce hug that half
crushed the dark haired housewife at the ribs.



   "Bosch moi, Sammy!" eeked Anya in surprise, her voice strained by the
surprising vice-like grip of the smaller woman.  "Good seeink you too,
Sammy."



   "Goodness, Sammy!" came Ivana as she and Bianca rounded the entrance to
the living room to enter the main hallway.  "You're gonna break her ribs
you keep that up."



   The sight of Sammy lifting Anya up several feet in the air in a fierce
bear-hug, Anya's arms pressed to her hips in the fierce clutch of the items
she brought, was a comical sight for the blonde and brunette.  Bianca could
not hold in a burst of laughter, and Ivy -- despite her being the one to
call Sammy off - wasn't fairing much better given the smile cutting through
her command.  Sammy let Anya down, the heels of her stillettos making a
small *clack* as she touched down on the hardwood flooring.



   "Glad you could make it, dear." said Ivy, reaching the statuesque
Russian and greeting her with a - significantly gentler - hug of greet.



   "Da!  Glad seeink you, darlink" said Anya, just the slightest bit winded
by the initial greeting.  "Someone's been goink hard in gym, da?" At this,
Sammy couldn't help but blush.

   "Sorry about that.  Guess I don't know my own strength."



   This was true, for the most part.  The past days had proven Sammy
Spitzmen to be much more capable of certain feats of strength that would
have been outright impossible in her mind beforehand.  Her 'training' with
Dwayne had forced her to reach the highest echelons of her stamina and
strength (among other things).  She was so used to being picked up and held
in the air now, the human body being grabbed and hoisted about for hard and
strong use, she thought nothing of it these days.  It was just in that
moment, her interaction with Anya, that she realized that her friends
weren't nearly as versed in physical labors as she was.  Little did she
know, that notion would - soon enough - be soundly disproved.



   "Oh yeah, she's gone a regular She-Hulk on us" said Bianca, playfully
nudging an elbow at the short redhead's abs.

   The three girls soon reconvened to the kitchen.  They chatted, and
caught up with Anya on things.  What was going on in her world, any fun and
exciting new housewife tales she had to offer them.  Anya gave them an
abridged recounting of the Brooks party.



   "Oh yeah" said Ivana, just now recalling the invite she and George had
gotten some time before.  "I forgot all about that thing.  George really
wanted to go, but I've just been so swamped with work."



   "Same here" agreed Bianca.  "Jeb and I considered going, but we couldn't
find a baby-sitter for the kids fast enough."



   "I didn't know anything about a party" said Sammy.  "I stopped getting
the mail after that whole skateboard incident.  Steve usually picks it up
on his way in from work.  Guess he forgot about it or something."



   "Well" said Anya, placing the bottle of wine she'd brought in an ice
bucket, "All I will say, is that you girls missed out on one HELL of
party." She was exceedingly careful to leave out the more 'telling' events
of that evening, and became even more cagey when it came to going into
detail about the famous Mr.Brooks.



   "What's he like?" asked Ivy, doggedly wanting the scoop behind all the
recent fuss over the enigmatic mogul.  "Let me guess; short, round as a
beach ball, clammy-handshake with a toupee type?"



   "N~iet..." said Anya, "nothing like that I'm 'fraid."



   "A-fraid, dear" corrected Bianca, before adding her own two cents on the
particulars of the man without taking a breath, "he strikes me more as one
of those wafish, book worm types.  Tall, skinny, glasses, that sort of
thing."



   "Niet..." said Anya, a smile framing her face at how wrong Bianca's
notion of the man.  This was turning into a rather fun game.



   "Hmmm..." said Bianca, unconvinced and yet searching for some clue from
the Russian beauty about this mysterious fellow.



   "I dunno, I picture this Brooks fella like, I dunno, Batman or
something." At this, Anya raised a dark brow.  "You, picture him a man in
leather suit?  With cape and cowl?"



   "Ye---I mean-- no!  No, I mean like his alter ego.  Bruce Wayne.  Tall,
dark, handsome, billionaire playboy type, but with a dark side, you know?"



   "He-he, Sammy..." chuckled Bianca, "I very much doubt our new neighbor
is a superhero."



   Anya said nothing, but silently nodded her head at what must have been
the most accurate description of the man from the ginger gym rat.  Brooks
was most definitely tall, dark and exceedingly handsome.  He was very much
a playboy and had only proven to be in possession of a ridiculous amount of
wealth by the scale of the party he'd thrown for the county residents.  Da,
he was definitely all of those things.  And if that alone hadn't qualified
him as 'perfect man' material, the fact he was in possession of the hugest
cock Anya had ever seen in her life would have made him overqualified.  The
girls had no clue about what Anya had gotten herself into, and - following
the word of her foremothers, such secrets would not be divulged to the
uninitiated.  No, the hours of groaning, screaming, writhing and seemingly
endless orgasms.  Those bits of her tale would remain close to Anya's
impressive chest.



   "In any case, it sounds like you had a heck of a time, Anya." said
Ivana.



   "Like would not believe..." replied Anya, a bit of airy distance as she
recalled the evening.



   "Especially if you went there looking anything like how you do now"
added Bianca.

   The compliment was aimed at Anya's outfit.  A lush, light blue dress
that the word 'form-fitting' would have been far too generous to describe.
Anya, ever the model and diva, refused to go anywhere not looking her best.
The blue dress and matching heels had been on her list of outfits in the
running to be wore the night of Brooks' party.  In the end, black won out
(in more ways than one), but the blue number had remained in her head as an
exceptional outfit for an outting with her girlfriends.



   "Ah, this old thing?" said Anya, coyly.  "Ah, just somethink I threw on
to come over."



   "U~huh!" said Bianca, Sammy and Ivana in unison.  The three of them were
well aware of how meticulous Anya was about her outfits.  Always the first
one in the mirror and the last out the door to actually be somewhere.



   "So" began Bianca, "What's this exactly?"

   The 'this' Bianca was referring to, was the black bottle that Anya had
brought with her for the gathering.  Its curious label and exotic name
immediately caught the big blonde's fancy.



   "Jeb and I have our own little collection of fine wines we order online.
I'm afraid I've never heard of this brand before though."



   "Da" replied Anya.  "Is because its Mr.Brooks' own brand."

   It was the three other housewive's turns to arch a brow at Anya.



   "This guy has his own wine brand?" asked Sammy.



   "Da" replied Anya, careful not to jump into too much detail about that
night again, how much 'trouble' that wine had gotten her into.  "After
party, Mr.Brooks' assistant had a bottle delivered to house.  They knew we
enjoyed very much, and thought it would be nice present.  A 'thank you for
coming'.  Again, and again and again Anya added in thought.



   "You sure this guy ain't Bruce Wayne?"



   "Well now" said Ivana, curious now at the black bottle, she lifted it
from the ice chest, examining the label.  "Di-ah-bo-lique...well, sounds
interesting enough".  Ivana, in her classic way, came off as more than a
bit condescending with this remark.  Like the wine was something to be
tried on a whim rather than a genuine interest.  "Guess it couldn't hurt to
try a bit, get things started right."

   Four small shot glasses were retrieved and then filled up with the
slightest bit of wine.  Upon popping the cork of the black bottle, the
women's nostrils flared at the scent of its contents.



   "Mmm..." uttered BB.



   "Smells good" added Ivana at the fruity yet spicy odor of the wine.



   "Is great, da?" said Anya.



   The three women cautiously tipped the shot glasses up to their full
mouths and gave the dark black liquid passage into their bodies.  The
reaction was almost instantaneous.



   "Ooooh my GAWD!" said Ivana, looking at the now empty shot glass in
amazement as the cold liquid slid down her throat and turned warm as it
bloomed in her ample chest.



   "That is quite good" added Bianca.



   "Mmmmm!" cooed Sammy.

   Their approval gained, Anya smiled.



   "See!  Is delicious, da?"



   The girls readied four bigger glasses after that, and went about pouring
portions of the wine into each one.  The cold black liquid seem to explode
on their tongue as they sipped from their glasses.  Instantly Anya, Ivana,
Sammy and Bianca had gotten into the mood of things.  Together for the
first time in what felt like ages, the women laughed and joked at one
another's company.



   "Say" said Sammy between another sip.  "Where's Jenny, shouldn't she be
here by now?"



   "Da" added Anya.  "Not like her to be late"



   Indeed, it was nearing 5 and there'd been no sign of the blonde
bombshell herself.  Ivy kept quiet on the matter, but had been doing a
silent countdown in her head.  In all honesty, a part of her wondered if
the yellow haired bimbo would bow out and not bother to show.  This would,
of course, put a giant monkey wrench in the brunette nurses' plan.  But
still, submission to Ivana's superiority by failing to appear would be
almost as good as what her headlining plan had in store.  If it came down
to that, Ivana would have (albeit begrudgingly) have accepted telling Jenny
about her 'conquest' after the fact, be it from one party or another.  In
her heart of hearts though, Ivana knew this would not -- could not -- be
the case.  No, this had to be official and in the open.  She knew and felt
the lingering truth sitting in her breast, along with the heat of the
delicious wine, that Jenny knew this as well.  Any minute now, she thought,
tilting the rounded glass up to her full lips and sipping at the black
wine.



   "Oh my gosh, Anya, this stuff is excellent!" said Sammy, already
finishing off the dregs of her first glass.  "You gotta get me some of this
stuff for my place.  Me and Steve's anniversary is coming up, and---"
Ivana's thoughts weren't on the conversation taking place before her.  No,
her full attention was aimed near the front of her house.  Her ears perked
up at the noise that soon echoed throughout the two story suburban home.



   *DING-DONG!!*

   ...




4:47 PM







   "Jenny~!" wailed Sammy and Anya as they opened the front door.  Anya and
Sammy - for reasons unknown to the other women - shared a habit of
excitability that seemed to grow in tambor the longer the ginger and black
haired beauties stayed around each other.  By the time Jenny Summers had
arrived to the Swallows' residence.







   The large front door swung opened to reveal the gorgeous side-profile of
the awaited blonde woman.  Jenny wore a simple, yet eye-catching, number
consisting of a plain white athletic polo shirt with black trim, and a pair
of black short-shorts with faint white pinstripes and black heels which
kept her calve muscles in a seemingly permanent flex.  Anya and Sammy
squalled at the arrival of their gorgeous friend, throwing their eager arms
around her waist and neck.  Bianca opted to a more contained greeting while
standing at the back of the spirited greeting.







   "Hey girl" said Bianca plainly, her warm farm doing more of the
communication than anything else.





   And Jenny smiled that radiant, mother-of-pearl smile at the collected
trio.







   "Well!  That's about the best greeting I've ever gotten.  Missed you
girls!" laughed Jenny as she strode into the house, Anya and Sammy at her
sides.  Jenny had her arms slung over the pair casually, half-swaggering in
the manner a young man perhaps would if boasting two gorgeous women on each
arm at a social gathering.





   The small trek into the main hallway was detoured only by a momentary
pause for Jenny stop and give the taller blonde Bianca a lingering hug
after detaching from the two other women.







   "Mmmm!" grunt both blonde women from the pressure of their bordering
bear hug of an embrace.  Jenny and Bianca often greeted one another in this
way.  Subdued hellos punctuated by a long, fierce hug.  The ritual and
manner of both women's strong hugs often instilled the idea of how two
viking women would hug in the distant yesteryears.  The act pressed both
women's vast chests together, a mash of white flesh pressed and brushing
against one another from under the confines of simple fabric.







   "Been too long, dear", said Bianca.





   And behind this greeting, further back at the living room's entrance,
stood Ivana.  Ivana, silent as a viper awaiting a target, stood at the back
of the precession.  Her arms crossed underneath her big round chest, her
left arm nursing the wine glass of stark black liquid.  As Bianca and
Jenny's greeting ended, Ivana and Jenny's began.







   "There she is..." said Ivy, her teeth bore in a smile that in no way
touched or carried over into her green eyes.  It was a viper's greeting. 
An utterance of acknowledgment and warning compacted into a single gesture.
"Glad you could make it, Jenny."







   "There's my Ivy" replied Jenny, her award winning white teeth showing
sheen back at the guarded brunette.





   There was a moment just then.  One that lasted for but an instant and
not split-second more.  The two women, Summers and Swallows, standing
across from one another.  Ivy holding her cross-armed position.  Jenny
doing the same from the entranceway of the living room.  As Bianca, Anya
and Sammy filed into the living room - far too caught up in their own
chatter to catch the exchange - it came abrupt and passed just as quickly.
For a moment all there was was Jenny and Ivana.  Glaring green eyes focused
on piercing blue ones, vice versa, and nothing more.  A rapid, almost
predatory silence shared between the two women.  It was that moment between
two boxers whilst staring one another down in the center of the ring.  It
was that brief exchange between two alpha wolves in contention for pack
dominance.  The blonde and brunette shared this quiet moment, a silent
issue of defiance and challenge.  And then, just like that -







   "Come here, you!" belted Ivana, unfolding her arms and opening them up
to the sudden approach of Jenny.







   "Hey Ivy!" replied Jenny, opening her arms in kind to accept the dark
haired nurse.





   The two all but collapsed into one another.  Gripping each other in a
bearhug that even trumped the one previous shared by Jenny and Bianca.  The
two rocked back and forth, kissed one another's cheeks, rubbed shoulders,
went about all the motions of affection that were common in the south,
before finally breaking their embrace.







   "You look fabulous, hon!" said Ivana.







   "So do you" replied Jenny.  "Someones been getting their early morning
dose of Sammy at the gym, haven't you?"







   "Ha!" came Sammy from behind the pair.  "Hardly, she's been ducking me
left and right!"







   "Can you blame her?" came Bianca, taking a relaxed seat on the red
couch. "Sammy condenses about a year's worth of boot camp training into
about an hour", the big blonde joked.







   "If you're not hurtin, you ain't doin it right" said Sammy tersely,
purposely butchering her english out of playful spite of the english
teacher.

   In response, Bianca physically shivered from the use of 'ain't' from her
spot on the couch.  Sammy caught this and laughed.  Bianca then silently
recalled another individual who regularly used the word 'ain't', and
shivered again, albeit a shiver of a different kind.



   The girls conversed like this for the better of an hour.  Now that Jenny
had arrived, their party felt complete, the Coxville Book Club assembled in
full.  They laughed, shared amusing stories about their lives in the weeks
they'd all been apart, every woman being expertly cautious to avoid the
more incriminating bits of their life's antics.  As they conversed, they
idly sipped at the wine Anya had brought.



   "You simply MUST try this, Jen" insisted Ivana.  She handed Jenny a
glass of the cool black liquid.



   "What is it?" asked Jenny,looking at the mireous liquid with
uncertainty.

   Anya explained the Diabolique and gave the edited tale of her encounter
with Mr.Brooks.



   "Is divine" was Anya final conclusion on the beverage.



   "Well...," said Jenny, her apprehension shifting into interest at the
mogul's developed liking of the gorgeous raven-haired Russian.  "Looks like
you went and might have just gotten yourself an admirer Anya."

   At this Anya could not hold back a blush, her cheeks reddening at the
thought of being the object of Brooks' affection.Attaining such a feat -
even with the added fact of that epic night at his manor - seemed like
something out of a dream.  Having Brooks, that house, and Adela's
companionship as an added boon.  It all seemed too great.



   "W-Well..." Anya stammered.  "Alexander is very good man.  VERY good to
me and Tom at party."



   "Oh, so he's `Alex' now?  Uh-oh!" chimed Sammy from behind Anya,
"somebody's got a cru~sh!" Sammy playfully nudged at Anya's side, tickling
the Russian and causes a nervous giggle to escape her full lips.

   The girls laughed at Anya's unease as Sammy persisted to jostle a
confession from her.



   "Now wouldn't that be living?" said Ivana from her section of the living
room.  "Perfect house, rich husband, and a wealthy boyfriend?  You and that
crown just might be in trouble if Anya ever pulled that off, Jen!"

   Ivana laughed after saying this, only slightly able to conceal a
malicious ire behind her tone.

   The group were startled by this a bit, as if Ivana had just uttered some
kind of ill-thought taboo.



   "What ever do you mean by that, Ivy?" said Jenny, her voice coy but her
eyes set to daggers against the brunette.



   "Oh, come now Jenny, we didn't all up and suddenly catch amnesia.  Those
stories you told us about last time we all met?  You and Coach Black. 
Mighty steamy stuff you were going on and on about."







   "Well..." Jenny said, trying to brush off the statement.



   "I mean, from what you said, Coach Black is the man's equivalent to the
Belgian blue bull.  He-he!"







   "That he is..."said Jenny, plain but stern.



   "And that Samson boy?" Ivana added.  "He's basically just a younger
version of Coach.  God knows we saw what that boy was capable of."



   An uneasy moment between the group passed.  Anya,Sammy and Bianca had
hoped to not broach the topic of their last book club meeting, what had
occurred in the latter hour of the evening.  It had since led to the women
doing and saying things they'd -- perhaps -- only daydreamed about in the
most brief of moments.







   "And to think, you've got about as much as access to him as you want
considering how he's dating your daughter."







   Ivy's gaze shifted from Jenny's to the other girls.  They were
exchanging glances at one another.  Not quite what one would call
'nervous', but definitely aware of how easily this change in the tone and
topic of the evening could turn for the worse.  The last Coxville Book club
meeting involved festivities of an...unconventional...kind for the group of
women, involving Samson West -- the boyfriend of Jenny's daughter and star
football player in the county -- and the antics that came (several times)
as a result.  None of them had forgotten that night.  How could they?  It,
and the bout of fucking Ivana, Sammy, Bianca and Anya bore witness to at
the behest of Jenny and the super fit young black stud was something that
had carved itself into the women's very cores.  Embedded itself deep into
their psyches and inspired them to go out and attain their own black bulls.
None of them were willing to confess this to one another in person
(reputations to maintain and all that) but each woman had gone out and
joined the game, and played in fine style.







   "We saw that plain as day from the little show you put on for us last
time we all got together like this."







   "Oh yeah," replied Jenny, a sarcastic moment of remembrance.  "The show
you joined in on after hesitating for a whole thirty seconds."





   Eyes of blue, dark and green shot back to Ivana.



   "Ha!  You got me there, Jen.  We all dived right in on that one I'm
afraid."

   Ivana scanned the room at the other girls.  A mix of remembrance meshed
with a bit of guilt passed over the group.







   "Some of us better than others."



   All eyes fell back to Jenny.



   "True...I mean, Sammy wasn't quite ready for that much man" said Jenny.



   "Hey!" came Sammy in meek protest.  "I wasn't THAT bad..." in her own
feeble attempt at defense.



   "And BB's technique could definitely have been better" added Ivana.



   "Well..." came an only slightly offended Bianca.  "I wasn't exactly
planning on having a mare's ideal specimen wedged in my mouth that
night..." she grumbled.



   "And Anya -- the poor dear -- couldn't keep up at all with that boy. 
Got left a sputtering, choking mess" said Ivana.

   Anya muttered something in Russian, and judging by its harsh and cutting
tone, it almost certainly wasn't a compliment on the state of Ivy's
hardwood floors.



   "Hey, I warned you girls, it's not easy" said Jenny, shrugging her
shoulders and taking a relaxed seat on the nearby love seat.  Her posture
was a show of force and defiance against the snarky brunette and her sudden
delving into the issue of her and her `sweet spot' for black men.  Her
motion intended to show dominance in the Swallows' home.  This was an
assertion of power from the blonde.  A responsive strike against Ivana for
what she knew must have been a setup for something.  "You probably know
that better than anyone, Ivy."



   "Huh?" Ivana replied, a shoddy attempt at playing coy.  "What ever do
you mean?"



   "Oh come on Ivy, you're poker face is about as good as Sammy on a
balance beam."



   Oh shit, she's knows!  Thought Ivana with a start.  The busty brunette's
eyes widened a bit, the only sign she's lost her composure as the motioned
over to the red couch.



   "Honestly, I have no idea what you're--."



   "Sure you do, Ivy" interrupted Jenny.  "I mean, you were able to go the
longest with Samson after all.  Didn't you even get him to cum once?"



   "You bet I-- ahem!-- that is...yes, I did."



   Ivana was boiling inside at this.  How dare that yellow haired bitch try
and belittle her making the West boy come.  She'd EASILY proven herself the
superior woman that night by making him cum buckets.  And here Jenny was,
trying to pass it off as some meager achievement.







   "Well, there you go then.  That's what I meant.  Its not easy pleasing
these black boys.  And even when you do, you run the risk of drowning.  You
got probably the hardest lesson of all on that one, Ivy dear, Ha-ha!"





   Jenny then lifted the wine glass to her full red lips and took a hefty
swig of the Diabolique, a dram of asserted victory over her brunette rival
that would have made her Nordic ancestors proud.  When Jenny had pulled her
lips away from the glass, barely a sip of the cool black liquid remained.
Jenny sighed in the manner that one does after taking a refreshing drink.



   "Damn...that is good..." Jenny said, a lioness' pur of enjoyment.  Her
blue eyes never once turned away or granted surcease from Ivana's emerald
green ones.



   This bitch, thought Ivana coldly.  She thinks she's so damn hot.  What
had said didn't sound hostile from a surface vantage, but Ivana knew
better. She knew what Jenny was really referencing.  She knows about me and
ZJ and those two idiot janitors!  The panic never showed on the beautiful
nurse's face, but inside she was buzzing.  Somehow, Jenny had found out
about her tryst with dark skinned athlete and the two bumbling custodians
at the school.  She knew it, why else would she be so calm about all this?
Secretly all the women were beginning to boil inside.  How dare Jenny and
Ivy just dismiss their skills like that!



   True, Sammy was unable to choke down very much of Samson's Big Black
Cock, but a counter to that was she had -- easily -- proven herself to be
the most spirited one with the task.  It's just like grandma always says,
thought Sammy, don't get to somethin if you don't plan on puttin
elbow-grease into it!  The expression reminded Sammy that, while she didn't
have much grease on hand for the West boy's massive black slab of meat that
night, she certainly had enough saliva and foamy spit for the feat.  Just
recalling the affair incited Sammy's mouth to water.



   Bianca, though she was most hesitant in the group that night, had given
West the best service of slow and languid laps of his brown shaft with her
tongue.  She still remembered how overwhelmingly full the negro youth's
chubby cockhead alone made her mouth.  Her full red lips sucking at his fat
tip and making him moan as he gripped her big round buttocks.  The powerful
grip of his big strong hands made her think of those tall super-fit
athletes, their long and strong fingers able to grip round the whole of a
basketball and hold it firm with but a single hand.  Damn, that West boy
certainly knew how to take a woman, thought Bianca, recalling how Samson
made Jenny moan and holler on Harold's prized recliner that night.  How
their cream and brown bodies melded and made one another's muscles flex and
sweat.  Samson's huge cock burying itself deep into Jenny with reckless
abandon and the sounds and expressions made by the blond gave every
indication she was loving that Big Black dick.  Bianca's pussy grew moist,
and she suddenly found herself wanting.  Wanting to rebuke Ivana and
Jenny's dismissal of her sexual prowess.  Wanting to prove them incorrect
by using her big ass and big toned body that she already knew -- without a
shred of doubt -- was loved by Big Black Cock.  3B, they called her.



   And Anya, though perhaps the least versed in having at such a mammoth
member, showed persistence in wetting up the black man's piece with double
the gusto and intensity as any of the women.  Her pride, more than
anything, egged her on.  I've had a king, Anya thought in her native
Russian, recalling how she'd made Brooks roar like a sated lion in the
chamber of his lavish mansion.  How dare these two talk about me like I'm
some sort of low-class beginner!  Like I'm some kind of novice!  Her Brooks
could break both of these two, Ivana and Jenny, with half the effort of his
massive caramel cock.  Yes, she thought, where he'd break these two snobs
in two, he and I would--no--HAVE fucked for all night, and had energy
reserved for Ms.Luveau (a towering ebony queen).  I've had a king, how dare
they!  Anya repeated this thought again and again in her head, a tiny
mantra that ever-so slowly bloomed into a want to challenge...to best...



   It was a strange thing indeed for the three other women to take offense
to such remarks.  Strange indeed how these three married women were
offended and -- in quieter confession -- felt challenged by both Summers
and Swallows.

   Well, Its not like Ivy is anything close to a pro, Sammy thought.  As
big a slouch she is during workouts, she wouldn't last ten minutes with my
Dwayne!

   Well, these two seem a bit full of themselves, thought Bianca.  I doubt
they'd be able to take half of Gerald without begging for mercy...let alone
take him in the ass!

   I've had a king, how dare they!  continued Anya in her head, breaking
her chant only to add; The nerve of these two!  as well as; If they only
knew what Brooks was hiding in his pants, they'd bow down and do an act of
worship!



   Each of the three housewives stewed in their own thoughts for a moment.
All of them keeping their composure, but all of them silently roiling at
the thought of being beneath the heel of another's sexual prowess.  A
noticeable heat rose in the air-condition living room (or was that simply
the wine?).  None of them knew about the others respected black bulls, but
all of them swelled with a silent sense of pride of 'if only they knew'. 
Jenny and Ivy were too preoccupied with putting the other in their place,
their verbal sparring match for queenly supremacy, to notice the shift in
the ginger, thick bodied blonde and black haired Russian's mood.  Their
battle for supremacy, this idea hit the women's minds.  Offense rose in
them.  As if they're the only ones who can take Big Black Cock!  thought
the three women in unison.







   "But, we've all got our talents" said Jenny in a dismissive tone. 
"Multi-tasking a home, professional life AND black men?  Yeesh!  Might
actually be best that you girls decided NOT to get involved."



   At this the four of them couldn't help but smirk.  For a minute after
that, Jenny Summers felt on top of the world from her little throne.  She'd
intended to only put Ivana in her place after she brought up that one night
(as if it were something she'd be ashamed about).  Roping the other girls
into the madness wasn't her intention, but all the same, it served as a
warning to the lot of them.  They were her friends, but when it came to
black men, Jenny Summers had to remind them who the real queen was.  I
wonder what Coach is up to right now, she thought, wondering where her king
was.  She'd called him three times that day, hoping for a quick(ish) bout
before heading over to the party.  She had shooed Harold out of the house
and onto the road quick and fierce that morning for that very purpose.  He
hadn't answered her calls, and this had left her feeling uneasy.



   It wasn't like him to not return her calls.  Silly as it was, she always
suspected mischief when he wasn't with her.  Looking the way he does, he
could have any woman in town he wants, she always told herself.  As a
single man, it was his prerogative (she supposed) to see anyone he wanted.
But...that didn't change the fact she wanted him all to herself.  More than
anything, Jenny worried that Coach Black would tire of her.  It drove her
to stay fit, stay durable and flexible.  Each foray she had with her black
bull, she made sure to go twice as hard and be thrice as long, doing her
absolute best to please him and his big black monster cock.  She'd be
damned if she let him get bored of her.



   Her dedication to Black was what truly kept her sex life alive and at
full throttle.  She wouldn't have that be questioned by Ivana, or any of
the girls.  Her devotion to him was absolute...and then, as if Damballah
himself had been listening in on the blonde beauty's thoughts-





   * DING-DONG!!*
6:45 PM





   Two shadows of identical size and shape darkened the doorstep of the
Swallows house.  The sun just setting, a blood red ball seeking refuge
behind the distant hills and suburban homes.







   "Remember man, don't come in here actin like no spaz" said the older
brother.

   The two black men stood in front of the Swallows house, their big
muscular arms loaded down and then some with grocery bags brimming with
food.  Steaks, shrimps, chicken, various pork products and lamb.  Giant
mushrooms, avocados, a few megere veggies intended to round out the breads
for both hamburgers and links, condiments galore, more steak and meaty
sausages of almost every brand and breed.  The men looked like they were
bringing a bounty to feed an army.  Coach Black had insisted at the market
a surplus was wiser than risking a deficit.  Along with that in tow was a
bucket of mint ice cream, chipped ice, lemonade and a giant bag full of
chewing mints, brought at the insistence of the young Black brother.



   "Trust me, bro" he assured with a smile, "minty breath is vastly more
preferable than meat breath at a barbeque."



   The two men stood at the front door, in wait after Coach had rung the
door bell.  The pleasant chime of its toll struck both black men as a
quaint, all too fitting, staple of the burbs.  As kids growing up on the
westside of Coxville County -- "Niggertown" as it was so infamously
nicknamed -- the Black boys never had the luxury of such pleasant bell
tolls.  Everything there was harsh, hard and unrelenting.  Its streets, its
houses, alleys, doorbells and -- most of all -- its people.  The Black boys
grew up in the same environment, yet the pair couldn't have turned out any
more different from one another.  Coach; the all-prop and all-star jock,
took to the typical avenue of athletics and sports, with football reigning
as his bread and butter.



   Richard however took more to the mental and expeditionary hobbies,
eastern philosophy and world travel being his forte and first obsession,
keen on travel and being out in the world and among its people.Though the
twins interests resided in polar opposite fields, the two black men were
still (somehow) equally fit and toned physical specimens.  While Coach had
honed his body on the football field and in the gym, Richard developed an
equally impressive physique by way of regular hiking for days (sometimes
weeks) at a time, and spending what time he had in-between doing copious
amounts of calisthenics and yoga-based exercises.  The end result?  Two
towering black men, physically identical, yet polar opposites in
personality and temperment.



   "When do I ever act like a spaz?" asked the younger.



   "Safe travels?" replied Coach.



   "Huh?"



   "You told Harry and George `safe travels' at the market, nigga.  I don't
even think white folks say that corny shit to each other."



   "I was being polite."



   "You were being a spaz.  Just leave that socially awkward shit on the
porch...along with those lame ass sandals.  Women ain't particularly fond
of either"



   "My sandals aren't lame.  And plenty of women find my social behavior to
be quite enjoyable."



   "Quite enjoya--aagh--listen to you,man!  What they do you out there in
Europe, give you some kinda `street-enema'?  Drain every drop of `real
nigga' outta you?"



   "Its called being cultured, nigga!"



   "Oh shit, nigga?  You can still say that, huh?



   "Just cuz you couldn't hack being outside of this little bubble of a
town, doesn't mean I gotta be on some base nigga shit at all times.  The
real world scared you off, and now you think everybody `spose to act
according to your little ass box."



   "Whatever nigga, just don't make me regret bringin yo ass here."



   "Well, don't make me regret helping your wanna-be-alpha ass.  Runnin all
over town bringing housewives groceries isn't how I planned on spending my
first day back."



   "Oh, bitch, bitch, bitch...lay off the soy my lil bro.  Shits makin you
squall like a broad.  Just be grateful I brought yo ass, and make sure you
don't fuck up and say some embarassing shit."



   "All this meat we're carrying, broads better be grateful is all I'm
sayin.  Slavery's ov-

   The door suddenly swung open, interrupting the conversation between the
two Black men.

   ...



   Richard's sudden arrival in town had come as a bit of a shock to Coach
when he'd gotten the call.  That morning when he'd learned of his brother's
return, Coach had planned on spending that saturday as he normally did;
tinkering with his car, hitting the gym, running a few meager errands
before hitting up one (or two) of his bevy of lady friends.  If one were to
somehow achieve the impossible, and get Coach Black's cell-phone away from
him for any span of time, one would notice a peculiar thing about the
ex-ball player's contact list.  Letters in lieu of names;



   * L.A.

   * SC

   * ATL

   * BSK

   * M&P

   * A,B & C





   Cryptic nick names that sounded like they belonged to characters in a
cheesy 90's comic book;



   * Bone-iCrusher

   * Thunder-Head

   * Cowgirl

   * Iron Bitch

   * Bombshell

   * Gym Nut

   * Outback

   * Big Red

   * Aphordite

   * Seed Monger

   * Big-O

   * She-Hulk

   * Wonder Woman



   ,etc.





   A series of mysteries that Coach would never allow to be divulged to
anyone.  So, it had surprised him when he'd received a call from his
brother, telling him he'd arrived back in town after spending what had been
years away from home.  His brother suddenly coming back home had surprised
him almost as much as the call he'd received only shortly beforehand by
Ivana Swallows.  She'd -- somehow -- gotten his number and had -- polite
yet tersely -- asked him to retrieve the necessary groceries for her
barbeque.







   "I'd got myself" she assured him, "but I'm simply swamped in getting
everything ready."







   "So, you called me instead of one of your girls?" Coach asked,
skepticism wrapped in caution on his tone.







   "Oh, please Coach!  I couldn't charge my guests with the task of
bringing what I need to this barbeque.  You realize how tacky that looks?"





   "But you can ask the lowly football coach you only talk to in the
language of `insult' to bring it for you."







   "Oh come on now" Ivana said, her voice suddenly dipping into a low,
sultry tambour.  `Melting honey' is the image Coach associated with the
shift in tone.  This was her `come-hither' voice.  The one she'd regularly
use to get people (men) to do deeds for her.  "You know all that's just
friendly workplace banter.  No different than when you boys haze each other
in the locker rooms.  Friendly jabs and all that."







   "Funny Ivy" said Coach.  "Didn't know you were up to speed on what goes
on in the men's locker room."





   The smirk somehow found a way to creep over the phone.  Silence from
Ivana's end.







   "Sigh...and what exactly am I bringing to the party"







   "Well..." Ivana began, "It is a barbeque, hon.  I'm gonna need meat..."





   Coach could in turn feel a smirk coming from Ivana's end of the phone.







   "Really..."said Coach, his voice lowering to match hers.







   "Uh-huh..." said Ivana, plainly.







   "How much meat we talkin here?"







   "Lots..." replied the southern nurse.  "Pounds..."

   Coach's growing erection was starting to form a large bulge in his
pants. Is she fuckin with me, he thought.



   "Think you can handle that for me?" came Ivana in a coy, cat-like pur.



   "Shiiiet...alright, I got you.  I'll bring the meat, you can pay me back
when I get there."



   "Deal..." she replied plainly.

   ...

   *DING-DONG!!*





   "Oh," said Anya, a low jolt of surprise in her voice from the sudden
ringing of the doorbell.  "Was someone else comink?"





   Bianca and Sammy looked on to the corridor where the noise echoed from.



   "Ivy" Bianca then said, "didn't you say you were having the meat
delivered to us?"





   "That I did, BB!" Ivana replied, a wide smile on her face and a
matter-of-fact pep in her voice perhaps half an octave too perky for her
often caustic demeanor.  "Took them long enough.  The suns already about to
go down."





   Ivana gracefully rose from her position in the love-seat.  In one smooth
motion she set her mostly empty glass of wine down and motioned towards the
front door.  She was out of sight before she could even gauge the look of
caution, the raised eyebrow, on Jenny Summer's gorgeous face.  Almost
sensing Jenny's unease, Bianca spoke.







   "Ivana had the foresight to know we'd all be too wrapped up in visiting
to get the meat for the barbeque, so she had someone deliver it for us."







   "Yeah..." said Jenny, a readiness in her voice.  "Foresight."





   Jenny watched Ivana as she turn the corridor that led to the front door.
She noted her choice of clothing this evening.  The skirt and blouse that
best showcased her bare shoulders and arms and wrapped tight around her
slim torso.  The skirt clung tight to Ivana's full, meaty curves and --
lord above -- Jenny thought, had Ivana's ass always been so full, so round?
Had it always jiggled and bounced that way while confined in garments?  A
start that could have been identified as one of panic shot through Jenny's
ample chest.  A slight pump of adrenaline that only intensified as she
prodded herself with a question that she -- in her heart of hearts --
already knew the answer to.  Who was at the door?  Who did Ivana have come
over?





   ...



   "Ah, Coach, dear~!" chimed Ivana as she swung the front door open. 
"Better late than never."

   Black was caught off guard by how warm and welcoming the greeting.  He
half-flinched at the spot upon seeing Ivana's uncommon bright white smile
aimed at him.  It simply didn't happen.



   "Uh...hey Ivy." said Coach, uncertainty cracking in his voice.  "Yeah,
sorry `bout that.  Had to pick up the little brother and it took longer to
pack everything into the Black-mobile than I thought it would."



   "Oh, don't fret over it.  The timing actually couldn't have worked out
any better.  Us girls were just catching up on things and just now worked
up a hunger."



   "I see..." said Coach.



   "You know how the old saying goes; hunger is the best spice." added
Richard.



   "You're here now, and that's all that matters.  Come on in and set that
stuff down in the kitchen."

   Don't fret over it?  Coach would have sworn on the stand he'd never
heard the cranky brunette nurse EVER speak those words before.



   "S-Sure..." said Coach, uneasy and not doing an altogether good job of
hiding it.

   The men strode into the two story abode, arms spilling with bags of
food.



   "Man, you went all out." said Ivana.



   "Yeah" replied Coach, "figured more beat the risk of not having enough."



   "Good call" the busty nurse concurred.

   Good call?  thought Coach.  Ivana never agreed with Coach on anything.
If Black had ever looked up to the sky and said `the sky is blue', Ivana
Swallows' undoubted reply would have been something to the effect of
`well...not particularly.' What's up with her?  Why is she being so damn
agreeable all of a sudden?

   The three walked down the corridor before rounding the corner that led
to the living room.



   "Right this way" said Ivana, leading the trek.



   "Say, this is a really nice place you got here Mrs.Swallows." said
Richard.



   "Well thank you, I--" Ivana trailed off, just noting Richard's presence
for the first time, and more so-



   "Oh my goodness!" said Ivana, abruptly turning on her heel and facing
Richard.



   "You...you're--"



   "Richard" added the Black twin.  "Richard Black.  Coaches `younger'
brother of a few minutes."

   Ivana's eyes shifted from Coach to Richard, rapidly.



   "Oh my goodness!  I-I didn't know you had a twin brother."



   "Not many do" the sculpted black man added.  "Wish I could keep it that
way sometimes."



   "Yeah, yeah" dismissed Rich.  "I'd shake your hand, Mrs.  Swallows, but
uhhhh..."

   Richard let the line linger in the air, letting the image of him being
loaded down with grocery bags speak for itself.



   "You both look exactly alike."



   "I like to think I got the good-looks." joked Richard.



   Ivana couldn't help but stare between the two men.  It was like looking
at a person while standing next to a mirror.  Two Blacks, she thought. 
Ivana assessed what this meant.  How it would fit into her plans.  She'd
made sure to be overly nice to tall black jock so that he'd willingly come
inside rather than hand off the groceries to her and leave.  That would
have ruined everything.  She lured him inside with honey, only to realize
(rather oafishly) that she'd brought in his brother -- his twin brother --
into her home.  What now?  she thought.  She'd play it through as planned,
and would figure out how this new development could be used later.



   "Right through here, fellas." said Ivana, guiding the way into the
livingroom.



   "We come bearing gifts!" joked Richard as they entered to see the other
women.

   All eyes fell to the small procession entering the space.  Bianca
immediately made eye-contact with Black and gave him a slight, but warm,
smile of greeting.



   "Hey, Bianca!" said Coach from behind a tiny wall of brown paper bags.
He had to bite his tongue the slightest bit not to call her `3B'.  She
hates that, he thought, and more so didn't want to have to be the one to
explain to her what the nickname stood for.



   "Hey there, Coach." replied Bianca.  Between Blackwood and Black, there
had always been a polite , if a bit distant, friendliness.  Bianca had
always made it a point to be polite to the tall over-muscled black man. 
She felt it out of a sense of obligation and want to balance out how
snarky, at times downright mean, way Ivana and Jenny would speak to the man
at school.



   Whenever she saw him, she'd make it a point to smile.  Say hello while
at faculty meetings or in the halls, and in turn he'd oblige.  Nothing
further transpired between the two, and from this the build blonde haired
woman found Coach to be a rather agreeable fellow.  This didn't however,
make her any less aware to how big a flirt he was.  She'd heard the rumors
about him.  Had seen ample proof of how the man got around with women at
the campus, married as well as single.  She wouldn't be caught up in that
web, and therefore decided to keep her distance.



   That was then at least...Now Bianca wasn't so sure she wanted that
distance to remain.  Her recent experiences had open her up (in more ways
than one) to perhaps pursuing a more `open' friendship with the studly
athletics coach.  But of this, she did not speak aloud nor hint in manner.

   Anya White meanwhile looked at the black man with a thinly veiled
caution.  She'd met Coach not long after she'd moved to Coxville, and she
didn't altogether like the man.  She found him arrogant, `gorgeous...but
arrogant'.  She typically kept her interactions with him short and clipped.
Sometimes going so far as to feign not knowing english words so as to speed
the conversation along.  He was a player, everyone in town knew that.  And
moreso a cocky one, a trait that did not sit well with Anya.



   While things had changed since those earlier meetings, her caution
towards the tall built man had maintained its unwillingness to part.  Her
silent attraction however, whether Anya knew it or not, had remained the
same (if not grown).  Now however, her apprehension was peppered with
something else.Something that hadn't been there before when Coach would
gaze at her fiercely with his rich brown eyes and use his sultry deep voice
to coax a bit of warmth from the raven haired Russian.  Curiosity perhaps?
She appraised him, still as good-looking as he was the last time she had
seen him (moreso now for some reason).  Somethin edged her closer to him
now.  Daring her.



   < "Good evening, Anya." > said Coach, using the lion's share of Russian
he knew.



   "Hello, Coach Black" she replied in english, formal, terse and without
an ounce of warmth.



   Ice princess as always, thought Coach.  Still fine as fuck though.  He
couldn't deny that the Russian woman's distant manner made him hot.  Her
dark eyes gazing at him with cold indifference somehow made him want to
ramp up the charm and ache to see what she'd be like if given the proper
attention.



   "I'll help!" said Sammy, rushing forward to aid in putting the bags in
the kitchen.  She scoop a single bag from the burly arms of Richard (whose
face had been mostly obscured) and frolicked into the other room.  Roughly
ten seconds later, a loud metallic clatter echoed throughout the abode,
followed by;



   "Ouch!  Dang it!"

   Ivana's face shifted into a scowl at the sound.



   "Sammy, if you broke anything in my kitchen I'm gonna--"



   "Sorry!  Its ok...I didn't break nothin."

   The two men reached the kitchen and set the item down unceremoniously on
the large island and counter.  It was then, upon the bags being put down,
that everyone truly noticed the twins.



   "Say..." said Sammy, the first to see both men up close.  "You...oh my
gosh!"

   Richard smiled brightly at the bubbly redhead.



   "Hi there."



   Sammy did the thing that most people did upon finding themselves
standing before the Black twins.  Her eyes shifted back and forth between
them, as if she were trying to make sense of some kind of optical illusion.



   "Coach Black, there's two of you." she said, a whimsical wonder in her
tone.



   At this, both men couldn't help but laugh.  Sammy Spitzmen was simply
too adorable in her manner to not get them to.  Sammy had never really been
around Coach Black, not for any extended duration of time at least. 
Different generation, different friends, different lives despite their both
being athletic devotees.  Sammy had heard stories though.  Heard about the
great and infamous Coach Black from Jenny Summers.  In kind, Black had
heard about Sammy and her bordering legendary physique.  His eyes scanned
the super-fit ginger to confirm that the stories held true.  At most, Coach
had noticed Sammy from a distance, and she did as well for him.  The two
had never spoken a word to one another in all these years.  Rare as that
was in towns as small as Coxville, it still occurred when two people would
know next to nothing about one another.



   "I'm Richard, Coach's brother."



   "That's right." Coach added.



   "So...do you guys like..finish each others sentences and stuff?"

   The two looked at each other, puzzled but amused.



   "No--" said Coach.



   "Not really" added Richard.

   The pair went unaware of how their response came off as such.



   "Oh my gosh, that's so cool!  I wish I had a twin."



   "I don't think the town would survive two Sammies" came the slick voice
of Ivana Swallows, who filed into the kitchen with Bianca Blackwood, Anya
White and -- most notably -- Jenny Summers.  The women all sauntered into
the room, swaying and lightly bouncing like a host of goddesses.  Richard
couldn't help but gawk at the sight.  Good gawd!, he thought.  I knew this
town had bad bitches, but dayuum!  Richard typically did well to keep his
more...thuggish...tendencies at bay.  The fighting, street talk and whatnot
was a part of his past, yet it was something he had grown to control and
temper during his travels.  Women were drawn to him for his looks
typically, but were intoxicated by how worldly and sophisticated he
conveyed himself.



   Coach Black went about introducing his brother to the women, and briefly
explained to them how he came to be back in town after all these years. 
Bianca faintly remember Richard after a time, how they'd all gone to the
same school in their youth, but she'd never quite noticed him (admittedly).



   "Oh, no worries about that, Mrs.Blackwood." said Richards.  "I was a bit
of a ghost back in the day.  I stuck to the shadows mostly and kept out of
sight in the library.  Got plenty of reading in in those days at the
sacrifice of developing social skills.  So, you'll forgive me if I come off
as a bit odd at times.  You've been given fair warning, ha-ha"

   This tickled the big blondes' fancy.  He's so well-spoken and polite! 
Bianca thought.  I wish Gerald was more like him.



   "My little bro, the egghead" said Coach, helping Ivy put slab after slab
of steaks in the refrigerator, Jenny facilitating between them silently.



   < "I heard my brother speak to you in Russian.  What part are you
from?"" > Anya's beautiful dark eyes widened at the question.  She'd never
quite get used to people speaking to her in her native language in this
southern town.



   < " Y-you, you mean me?" > Anya blurted sheepishly.



   < " No, I was talking to the other beautiful Russian woman in the room."
> Replied Richard with a chuckle.



   The pair exchanged a few words in Russian.  Anya learned that Richard
had spent some time in Moscow during his travels and had managed to pick up
a bit of the language.  He was no Alexander Brooks (of that Anya knew
absolutely) but it was enough for them to engage in conversation.



   "Damn bro, didn't know you were multi-lingual"



   "One of many things you don't know about me, Coach." said Richard.



   The Russian conversation went back and forth for a moment or two longer,
and concluded upon Richard - to Black's amazement - making the typically
stoney raven haired Russian woman laugh, flashing her flawless pearly white
teeth and bright smile at the younger Black twin.  She even blushed, her
pale cheeks warming to a faint pink at Richad's unknown comment. 
Un-fuckin-believable thought Coach.  The ice-princess melts.



   It hadn't been known during this exchange, or at the very least not
addressed, but Jenny Summers was staring daggers at Coach Black this entire
time.  As the group put away the truck-load of delectable meats, she
scowled at him with a fury bordering on supernova.  What the FUCK?  she
thought, again and again, never taking her eyes on her big black bull.  Her
anger towards him was trumped only by her coiling and ever-rising hatred of
Ivana Swallows.  Ivana, who had put this little gathering together.  Ivana,
who had insisted she come down that day.  Ivana, who couldn't been bothered
to get her own bloody groceries, and called Coach -- HER Coach -- to fetch
them for her.

   What.The.FUCK!?



   Jenny's piercing glower never strayed from the sight of Coach and Ivy.
The pair of them, standing together as they placed the groceries in the
fridge.  Ivana, smiling and laughing with a regularity unheard of for the
often snarky and irritable brunette.Jenny became stone silent, working out
the details of how and when she'd release her anger towards the both of
them.  Her only confusion was who would feel her wrath first?  Her gullible
dog of a Big Black Cock, or the duplicitous bitch who had put this whole
debacle in motion.



   "So, if one of you gets hurt," said Sammy to Richard, "like, one of
ya'll smacks your funny-bone in the bathroom or somethin...does the other
twin feel it?"

   At this, Richard laughed.  "No, nothing like that I'm afraid.  That'd be
a nightmare.  Every time my brother stepped out on the field I'd be a
nervous wreck."



   "If that were true, your days of `climbin' killamanjaro' and all that
extreme hiking shit would be over.  I'd make sure of that." Added Coach,
working a particularly fat slab of steak into the fridge.  Bent in front of
him was Ivana, who was moving items out of the way to make room for the
meat.



   "Alright Coach, hon, you can go on ahead and place that big sucker
ri~ght in here."



   Ivana's round bubble butt --packed tight into her skirt-- was propped up
before the studly Coach.  The statement was innocent enough; Ivana had
cleared room for Coach to place the meat into the fridge.  On the surface,
it meant nothing...but beneath...well...Jenny knew better.  The blonde
cheerleading coach had to resist the urge of shoving her heel right into
the center of that pretentious heart-shaped mound that Ivana poked and
wobbled in front of Coach, HER Coach.



   "You sure you got enough room for all this?  Looks like a tight fit."



   "It'll fit" assured Ivana, "trust me, I've gotten plenty of practice in
with stuff like this."

   I'll bet you have, skank!  thought Jenny.



   "Alright, if you insist."

   Coach worked the items into the fridge, brushing passed Ivana as she
backed out.  Their hips touched, Ivana's ass backing itself into Coach's
pelvis.  The brunette nurse half-turned to look at the tall Black man.  In
that single moment, that single pass between man and woman, it looked like
-- from Jenny's vantage -- the two were connected, Coach burying his crotch
into Ivana from behind.  Coach, HER Coach, pelvis to ass with that
brown-haired bitch.



   "Oomph!" squeaked Ivana, her mouth an O of surprise at the sudden
obstruction, hacking herself into a wall of man and hard muscle.  "Pardon
me."



   "Not a thang" replied Coach, that smirk of his framing his features.

   What.The.FUCK!?



   Anya and Sammy were too busy being regaled by one of Richard's harrowing
adventures in the Swiss Alps to notice the all-too close gesture of Ivy
backing her bulbous bottom into Coach's crotch.  Bianca however, did happen
to catch the motion, and noted how ill-at-ease it had left Jenny.



   "Need any help putting that stuff away, Ivy?" she asked, a motherly
concern in her tone.



   "Oh, no no, we got this.  We should probably fire up the grill now. 
Coach, hon."



   "Yea?"



   "You think you could help me with the grill out back?  Danged thing has
been on the fritz since yesterday.  Don't know for the life of me what's
wrong with it."

   At this, Bianca cocked an eyebrow.  She'd seen Ivana at the grill just
earlier that day.  She made no mention of anything being wrong with the
device.



   What is she up to?  Thought Bianca.



   "Sure, let's go take a look."



   "I'll help you!" barked Jenny.



   "Oh, Jen" replied Ivana, "Don't fret over it.  Coach can take care of
this for me.  You go on an relax."



   "No, I want to help.  I'm more keen on things like this than you'd
think"

   Ivana smiled, "I know, but--"



   "Great.  Settled.  Let's go!"

   At the suggestion, Jenny, Ivana and Coach began to make their way to the
backyard.  Bianca followed, an appraising eye on the three of them.



   "I'll come along too" said Bianca.  "Jeb just bought a new grill and I'd
like to know a trick or two on how to fix should there ever come a need."



   That was only half-a-lie, but Bianca's intent was well meaning enough
for it not to feel wrong.  Sammy, Anya and Richard meanwhile remained in
the kitchen, enjoying the apex of Richard's daring climb while indulging in
the laid out fruits.  Anya was pouring Richard a small glass of the black
wine when the two blondes and brunette filed out of the kitchen.

   Bianca, seeing how the tension between the two women had grown in the
last few minutes, tried to position herself between Jenny and Ivana.



   "Alrighty, suit yourselves." said Ivana, "let's get to it!"

   Ivana and Bianca had made it outside, the warm southern air overtaking
them as they exited the house proper.  Jenny and Coach hadn't quite made it
to the back door, when Jenny gripped Coach by a large bicep and pulled him
aside, sidestepping the trek to the grill.



   "Whoa!" said Coach, off-guard from the sudden burst of strength from the
blonde.



   "What.  The.  FUCK!?" said Jenny, a growl that somehow managed to remain
a whisper.



   "What?" said Coach, his face puzzled.



   "What the hell are you doing here for starters?"



   "Ivy called and asked me to bring her some meat from the store."



   "She asked you to bring some meat from the store..." replied Jenny, the
disbelief almost palpable as she placed her hands at her hips and cocked
them to one side.  Though Jenny as shorter than Coach, from her stance and
position in the hallway she appeared to tower over him, the athletic black
man cornered by a yellow-haired lioness.



   "Yeah.  Figured it wasn't no thang, just a favor.  Relax baby.  "



   "Weren't nothin...Just a favor..."



   "Why are you repeatin everything I say?"



   Jenny smacked Coach on the arm, a half-closed hand hitting against solid
muscle.  The blow hurt her more than it did him, but Jenny wasn't about to
confess that.



   "Are you kidding me?  Are you that dense?"



   "Damn, the fuck's your problem?"



   "You!" Jenny belted, her voice breaking from its harsh whisper.  She
immediately caught herself and put a hand to her own mouth, as though to
silence herself.



   "You!" she repeated, this time in a hushed whisper.  "Ivana's using you,
you idiot."



   "Using me?"



   "Yes!  She's up to something.  Bringing you here, having you bring meat.
This is her trying to--to..."

   Jenny didn't want to say it aloud.



   "To what?" Coach dared.



   "She's trying to get back at me."



   "Get back at you?  Fo what?"



   "I dunno...Nothing...Everything!"



   Jenny wasn't about to go into any detail about the last book club
meeting.  She knew the matter of Samson West and the subsequent dare she'd
posed to the girls to get their own black studs wouldn't particularly set
him off, That was the problem.  That's what worried her the most.  Their
secret -- rather cavalier -- relationship was rooted in the idea that the
pair of them could have at whoever they wanted.  When we're fucking each
other senseless, have as much dick as you like, while I have as much pussy
as I like was the agreement.



   The problem with that however, Jenny didn't want Coach to have at anyone
else.  She wanted to have him all to herself.  Sure, she'd had her way with
more than her fair share of Big Black Dick in the days since that fateful
night, when she and Coach ravaged each other in the men's shower, her pussy
pounded into black addiction by Coach's monster cock.  But still, Coach was
hers.  The bimbos he'd throw himself into on a regular basis couldn't fuck
him half as good as she could, and had proven again and again (multiple
times).  Something about the notion of Ivana getting all that good black
dick, HER good black dick, simply set a fire in her.  The image of Ivana
having HER Coach, this simply would not stand.



   "She's using you to get to me."



   "...The fuck you talkin-



   "This whole barbecue thing as an excuse to get us all in one place.  She
probably trying to use this to like, I dunno..."



   "You're soundin hella paranoid right now...you know that right?"



   "Oh come on!  " said Jenny, an exasperated plea.  "When has EVER called
you and asked for a favor?"



   "Well..."



   "When has she EVER smiled or laughed this much?"



   "Well..."



   "When has she EVER called you `hon' or 'dear', for fuck's sake?"



   "Yeah...that was a little weird."



   "See?  She's up to something."



   "Doesn't mean all that."



   "And in the kitchen, she basically dry-humped you in front of everyone!"

   Jenny tilted her head back to check the corridor.  Through the screen
door she could see Bianca -- half bent at the grill -- alongside Ivana, who
was fiddling with something at the back of the device.



   "Look, she's distracted.  You go on ahead, grab your brother and get
outta here."



   "What?  Why the fuck would I do that?"



   "Because, Ivana's acting all weird.  She's gonna try...I
dunno...something."



   "She really can't be under your skin this bad." said Coach.



   "She's not, it's just--gah-- I don't trust her.  She's been on this
serious revenge kick ever since..."

   Jenny stopped herself.



   "Since..." Coach prodded.



   "Nothing..."

   An awkward silence.  Coach, paused at the spot and cocking an eyebrow
down at his blonde vixen.  She crossed her arms nervously, her gorgeous
face dropping off to the side like a sheepish teenage girl.



   "Hmm...alright, don't tell me then."

   Just then, Ivana's voice could be heard from outside.



   "Oh, dang it.  Coach dear, could you come out here and give us a hand
with this?"



   Jenny looked up, peered at Coach with a fiery desperation.  He looked
back at her, knowing that look.  When she really wanted him to do
something, she gave him this look.  It wasn't a beg, and it wasn't a
command, it was something in-between.  And Coach Black knew only one
response to this steely `come-hither' glare...



   "Comin, Ivy!"

   His brown eyes didn't take themselves away from Jenny's blue ones.  He
watched as her brows furrowed into a angry crease.  She hated how
pig-headed he was, and could show this with but a single expression.



   "Its nothin, right?" mocked Coach.  "Nothin went down, so it won't mean
nothin if I help her with the grill."



   "You..." Jenny began.  "Are SUCH a bastard."

   As Coach pressed his way from Jenny's cornered space, he smiled at her.



   "That I am...and yet, I'll still wearin that pussy out on a regular
basis.  Go figure."



   With that, Coach exited the house and entered the backyard.  Jenny could
have screamed bloody murder at how she was losing control of the situation.
Her heart sank a bit to see Coach turn from her like that, obviously
intrigued to see how Ivana's little 'plan' would play out.  She wanted to
strangle him and stomp Ivana into the concrete.  But she couldn't.  She was
committed to keeping up appearances., and wouldn't allow that false
dark-haired bitch to make her openly flinch in front of their friends.  She
suspected this was the purpose behind Ivana invited Sammy, Anya and Bianca.
It was a public display and a shield against any reprisal of Jenny's anger
towards the nurse.  Jenny gets angry at Ivana for having HER man answer to
her commands, she loses.  If Ivana can openly flirt with HER man in front
of the other girls, she loses.  If Ivana decides to host her own little
version of their previous book club meeting, and fucks HER man in front of
the girls,she loses

   It wasn't a comforting thought in any vane.  Jenny steeled herself for
what was about to come.  She'd have to safeguard her foolhardy Big Black
Cock from Ivana's grubby clutches.  This could be done, this would be done.
Jenny walked out into the backyard, spying Ivana as she was appraising
Coach while he bent over to look at the grill.  The blonde and brunette
made eye contact.  Ivana grinned, her green eyes gleaming in a way that
reminded Summers of a serpent aching to strike at any moment.

   Alright bitch... thought Jenny.  You want to play, let's play.

   And Jenny Summers, her blue eyes suddenly gaining a glint so bright and
cheery it bordered on hostile, returned the smile in kind with her own.

   ...