Chapter 56
Explanations and Accusations

Louise wasn't the only one who wondered what the end result of her uninhibited behavior was going to be that morning. Caitlin was lying next to Howard, propped up on one elbow, watching him sleep. Howard had been a surprise on just about every level -- and that made things difficult for Caitlin. First and foremost, she had made a ton of mistakes, she now realized. The proper thing to do would have been to do the standard dating thing -- a first date with a bit of a tease at the end, a second where she let him make ground and whet his appetite, and a third where she finally, with great (fake) reluctance, allowed him to nail her. But Caitlin was habituated to one-night stands, and she'd approached Howard as an experiment -- and that meant that she kept throwing challenges at him. And every time he rose above a challenge, she moved on to the next! So, in twenty-four hours, Howard exceeded expectation in every category of her one-night-stand Olympics -- and in the process, she had laid herself wide open, presenting herself as a slut looking for a one-night stand -- obviously not a situation conducive to a long-term relationship. Any chance of earning Howard's respect was gone -- he had seen everything, done everything (okay, maybe not quite EVERYTHING, but plenty enough!), heard everything... "Will you respect me in the morning?" was a question that hadn't occurred to her until it was too late...

On top of that, her job was probably forfeit -- unless she wanted to live in the shadow of his ability to blackmail her. She could see herself, pimped by Howard as the party girl for executive get-togethers, taking on three at a time, sucking Old Man Connors' dick... Caitlin grinned to herself; okay, maybe the imagination was going a bit wild, this morning; besides, she might suck Connors' dick if it meant she could sleep with Howard again... Who would have thought that the skinny geek would not only be an adequate fuck-buddy, but a treat? Now, she cast about desperately for some bit of mystery to hold him and bring him back -- and didn't find squat. Oh, sure, she could offer her ass -- but Howard didn't strike Caitlin as an ass man -- and he might even find the offer offensive!

Acting the way she felt wouldn't help; she'd pretended to be enamored of a guy more than once as a reverse psychology tactic -- and laughed after they all but ran out the door! Letting him know how sweet she thought he was would undoubtedly backfire. Even just playing it cool and acting only vaguely interested was probably a fifty-fifty proposition, at best; 'Yeah, that was nice, blah, blah, blah...' would probably make him think he was inadequate, even after he'd witnessed her reactions (and she KNEW that he had a thing about hookers and faked orgasms!) The thing that was a pain about the whole thing was that she hadn't faked ANYTHING -- it had been the best sex she'd had in YEARS!

So, what to do? Reverse psychology worked pretty well to get rid of a guy; maybe... Yeah, that was it! She'd play the old, 'That was wonderful, but...' card! And he'd argue and wheedle and she could reluctantly agree to another date... It was too late to lock him out, but, Hell, she WANTED him reaming her pussy! She just needed to make it less than easily attainable. Yeah, that would work...

She reached out and touched him, gently -- that was all it took, since Howard was unused to having other occupants in his bed. His eyes popped open. "Hi."

"Hi. How did you sleep?" Caitlin grimaced to herself; morning-after conversation could be so inane...

"Okay -- guess I was tired." Wasted, more like! He'd ridden Caitlin HARD, and it caught up to him -- but it had certainly been worth it...

"Well, we were up late, and neither of us was exactly napping..." Caitlin ventured.

"Yeah." He reached out and touched her arm.

Time to play poker; Caitlin pulled away and sat up, sighing. "Back to the salt mines..."

Howard didn't quite go, "Huh?" -- but he thought about it! "Sorry?"

"Well..." Caitlin had no problem sounding reluctant. "Last night was great, but it won't play at the office."

THAT again! Howard had some difficulty seeing how it was relevant; she didn't work for him, after all. This wasn't any boss sexually harassing his assistant scenario... Still, if it was that much of a concern for her, the thing for him to do was to let it ride... "Oh. Okay."

Okay? Aw, shit! Maybe she hadn't laid it on thick enough? Okay wasn't what he was suppose to say! "Well, surely you can see the problem -- I'm wide open, especially after last night..."

It seemed to Howard that the damage was done; if she wanted to date him, it would be a case of getting more, not getting in deeper. But he remembered that one-nighters were her thing; she was just closing him off, like the other guys. "If you say so."

'If I say so? FUCK!' This wasn't going well! Caitlin turned a look of exasperation on Howard. 'Jesus, how can he be so dense?' This was followed by uncertainty; 'Was I that bad a fuck? Nah...'

What was up with the woman? She wanted it chopped off -- the thing to do was to let it go, no matter how much he personally thought it sucked... Actually, this was one of the things he liked about Caitlin -- her ability to separate sex and her ambitions; most women, in his experience, would have used last night as a tool to connive her way into a relationship... The look on her face said that he had stepped in it, somewhere, though... "What's wrong?"

"Was it that bad? Didn't you enjoy it?"

"Hey it was GREAT! Incredible!"

"... But I acted like a total slut -- is that it?"

"No. That was refreshing! You were straightforward, totally uninhibited -- I've never had anything like that! But you SAID..."

"Yeah..." Caitlin was confused. So he was just letting it go because... Suddenly the lights came on. Erin had said, "Smart guys don't use the regular playbook..." She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before saying tentatively, "What would you say if I told you that last night was great, and I really, really wanted to see you again?"

"Gee, I don't know. Something on the order of, 'Great! When?' Something like that..."

"So you wouldn't, like, suddenly remember that you had to go to church or play golf or something and rush me into my clothes and dump me at my house and tell me you'll call, but avoid me like the plague?"

Howard sat through this open-mouthed. At the end of her amazing scenario recital, he sat for a moment, blinked, and said, "Oh."

"Oh?" Real fear surfaced in Caitlin.

Howard scratched his head. "I'm kind of stupid that way. I don't think it would occur to me. If I didn't want to see you, I think I'd try to find some way of breaking the truth to you gently." He shook his head. "So guys really do that, huh?"

Caitlin shrugged, grimaced. "I've learned to count on it as a way to get rid of a guy..."

"Soooo..."

"So the rulebook says if I tell you no, you're SUPPOSED to try to change my mind!"

Howard looked perplexed. "We're both up-front people -- why would we want to go in circles like that?"

"Something about the thrill of the chase?" Caitlin replied. Now that he mentioned it... "Although, I haven't left much..."

Howard chuckled. "I've been chasing you for years! Ever think about that?"

"Ummm, yeah, forgot about that." 'Courage, Girl!' "Okay, fresh start. I'd, uh, like to do this again, sometime..."

Howard smiled. "Me, too! The whole thing -- dinner, dancing, pleasant company... The rest, too, of course -- but there is no requirement to skip the preliminaries..." He grinned wickedly, "Unless you're itchy, of course!"

Caitlin grinned back. "I made a regular spectacle of myself, didn't I?"

Howard shrugged. "I was thrilled to death! Nothing sucks worse than making love to a woman who is either obviously faking or has this Mona Lisa rictus on her face... You yell and scream all you want!"

Armand was amiably presiding over the family breakfast. "So, Nate, working today?"

"Yeh," Nate nodded, absorbing some scrambled eggs. After chewing, he added, "Gonna take Draper around, too."

Armand nodded. "He'll probably be welcome."

Sharon sat quiet, toying with a waffle. "Is something wrong?" Armand asked.

"Nooo..." But she continued to play with her food.

After a bit, Nora and Nate passed a glance, and Nora directed a significant look at her father, flicking her eyes toward her mother. "I think we're all set, Daddy. May we be excused?"

Armand, surprised at the formal request, granted it. "Certainly." Nate and Nora got up and left, Nora kissing her mother on the shoulder on the way out and Nate giving the lie to the completion of their meals by snagging a banana on the way out. Armand let them get clear for a bit before querying, "All right, out with it."

Sharon wouldn't look at him, but she opened up, "Things seem... easier, this time..."

Armand grunted. "You've grown. And I'm sharing the wealth, a bit."

"There are the... other things..." Sharon muttered. "Felicia, Leticia..."

Armand nodded. "I've detected some other latencies in you; we're going to explore them."

"Lesbian?"

"Not necessarily." Armand mused for a moment. "I thought we might start that way and see where it goes -- easier than starting you with a man."

"I don't understand..."

"I think you might be a successful switch, properly brought along. It will help you manage things around here, for one thing, if you establish your dominance over some members of the staff," Armand amplified.

"Why is this important?"

"Jason is tough to compete with; besides, since it appears that he is going to produce a family, it will be more efficient if I can remove one of his foci so that he can continue to be effective while dealing with fatherhood. I want you to step into this role, and dominating female staff members is a start."

"Felicia isn't really a staff member."

"No, she goes a bit beyond. But the pair of you hit it off and she both doesn't mind girl-girl sex and she needs to stay in practice, so I want her to continue look to you as her Mistress. That gives her something important to look forward to -- serving me at one remove."

"What about the male staff?" Sharon asked.

"Charles and Boris have this in hand for now," Armand replied. "It may be of value for you to be able to dispense rewards to them, periodically, either using Charles or Boris as an intermediary, or directly. Some of them would not respond to feminine dominance; some will, properly applied. We can discuss this on a case-by-case basis." He eyed her. "This is about the strap-on, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"How did you feel about that?"

"Conflicted."

"Go on."

"I can't say I didn't enjoy parts of it. But I was abusing another woman..."

"Well, there is abuse and abuse," Armand replied. "Leticia bought into the lifestyle that happens in this household a long time ago. And periodically she acts up deliberately in order to get attention."

"Well, she's gotten plenty in the last couple of days!" Sharon exclaimed.

"True," Armand chuckled. "At first, I planned to teach her a lesson she would never forget, but I think Boris is good for her. If we throw them together a couple more times, I think she's going to submit to him totally."

"But he has that idea that if he gets her pregnant and turns her into a milk cow, she'll grow big breasts!" Sharon exclaimed.

Armand waved dismissal. "That plays to her favorite fantasy -- she WANTS to have children by a white man. Boris is perfect for her because he has totally dominated her and that feeds her white master race fetish. Back to you."

"I don't guess I hurt her..."

"No, I don't think so. But you established dominance over her in a very personal way -- in a way that I have used effectively time and time again on you! How did it make you feel?"

"Well, in some ways I liked it. I didn't feel right about it, but I liked it."

Armand smiled. "All of the women in this household -- with a couple of exceptions, both young girls -- are here, in part, because they understand submission. You aren't doing anything to them that they didn't sign up for. That being the case, you can put any guilt you might feel right out of your head. Does that help?"

Sharon thought about it. "I guess it does." She looked up at her ex-husband. "Will you be importing more women?"

Armand shrugged. "I really haven't decided. At this point, it seems unnecessary -- but you may decide that you want me to if things become too intense again. Besides, it's entertainment..." He eyed her. "I may import the occasional man, too. You need to grow in that direction."

"For me?" Sharon asked, incredulous.

"Yes. In both roles. I may wish to see you used, and I may wish to see you develop as a dominatrix. In either case, I will demand compliance from you. I may require your cooperation in order to further a project, whether it be a business dealing, or merely entertainment with a toy. I expect you to rise to the occasion in either case."

"I don't know..."

"I do. You have grown quite a bit in a short time. You can -- and you will -- do as I ask. You will step into your role as Mistress of this household. I suspect that it will be convenient that I not again bind you to me legally -- but nonetheless, you are the agent of my will and the premiere female in this household. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Armand." Sharon knew better than to argue -- besides, he was stroking her ego pretty thoroughly. Over the past few nights, she had spent more time in Armand's quarters than her own, too -- and it hadn't been particularly arduous, either.

Armand continued, "One of the alterations in our relationship is that I need not abuse you intensively at odd intervals to remind you that I control your destiny whether you are in my presence or not. As a result, we can deal with one another much more informally, which is critical to your ability to support me. That being the case, you may ask me questions regarding my plans for your development without unreasonable fear of reprisal. Shall we finish dining?"

Sharon nodded and returned to her breakfast with better appetite.

Erin was watching TV when Caitlin attempted to sneak in the front door. "Hi, Mom," she ventured, pretending to be blasé, "How was your date?"

"It was... very good, actually. How did you do after we left?"

"I didn't put it off any more, if that's what you're asking!" Erin replied archly. "And I'm REAL GLAD I didn't! WOW!"

"Well, based on MY experience, YOU should write an advice column!" Caitlin replied. "The only problem I have with last night's date is how to get him to repeat it -- many times!"

Erin giggled. "So, Weird Howard is..."

"VASTLY underrated! Omigod!" Caitlin exclaimed. "And I'd have never, EVER given him a second look! He's cute, he's funny, he's reasonably well-coordinated, he doesn't drink like a fish or beat women -- and the SEX! MY GOD!"

Erin tittered. "I think we're batting a thousand with smart guys..."

"You can say THAT again!" Caitlin agreed. "I'm going to run upstairs and soak a bit -- I haven't been ridden like that in YEARS!"

"Don't use all the hot water, please!"

"Princess?" Charlotte Pinkersley rapped on her daughter's door, then stuck her head in. What greeted her eyes was -- in the foreground -- her daughter's bare ass. Beyond that, her head, bobbing up and down -- and beyond THAT, Ted's face, bearing a somewhat strained expression. "Oh." She sighed, gathering herself. "How many times?"

"We're, uh, trying for four..." Ted grunted.

"Okay." Charlotte assumed command. "Princess? Ted is a renewable resource -- but you have to feed him and ensure that he doesn't get friction burns. Ted, you HAVE to keep her out of your lap! She's functionally insatiable if you don't..."

"Yeah, right." Ted hauled Claudette forward by her armpits, being sure to nestle her in his.

"That's good -- hold her until she settles down -- it might take a bit," Charlotte advised. But Claudette settled quickly, snuggling up. "That was quick! What...?"

Ted grinned tightly. "There is a variant on the pheromone, which has a calming effect without the sex piece. Comes from the pits..."

Charlotte looked surprised. "That's a new one..." She gathered herself. "Princess, I want you to throw on a robe and bring Ted to breakfast, now. He's going to need his nutrition -- and you will, too. We need to talk about how things have changed." Her voice hardened. "Princess?"

"Yes, Mom." Claudette raised her head.

"Twenty minutes." Charlotte swept out.

Claudette levered herself up, and Ted took a breath. "Do we have time for a shower?"

"You do," Claudette sighed. "I would never get my hair back together in time..." She went to the closet. "Mom said a robe..."

Ted blinked. "Apparently, we're being literal..."

"Mom tends to be," Claudette replied. She fished out a robe and threw it on. "Are you going to shower, then?"

"Yeah, actually." Ted got up.

Twenty minutes later, Ted seated himself in a sunny dining nook with Claudette, her mother, and a balding fellow with eyeglasses in pajamas and a robe. Charlotte was apparently dressed similarly to her daughter - but Ted was willing to bet there was a nightgown under HER robe. "Juice? Coffee?" Charlotte asked.

"Uh, both, I think. Orange, or something else?" Ted asked.

"We have several," his hostess replied. "Orange, grapefruit, tomato..."

"Tomato."

"Bridgette! Tomato juice!" Charlotte raised her voice and got an immediate response from a maid waiting near the door. Turning, she added, "I believe that introductions are in order. Ted Phipps, isn't it? This is my husband, Hubert. As you may have guessed, you have something in common..."

"Sir." Time to turn on the charm.

Hubert Pinkersley nodded regally. "I understand that you share certain olfactory markers with me and certain predatory instincts with my wife," he observed dryly.

"Ah. Um, yes." Ted had the grace to be embarrassed.

Hubert sighed. "Probably a good thing..."

Bridgette arrived, delivered the juice, and Charlotte shooed her away. "Privacy, please!" Turning to Ted and Claudette, she urged, "Eat, eat!"

Ted started filling a plate from a reasonably decent layout on the table while Charlotte turned her attention to her daughter. "Did you enjoy yourself, Dear?"

"Yes, Mom. How bad a trouble am I in?" Claudette asked.

"You're not, Princess," her mother replied, "Today is the first day of the rest of your life. We're here for some explanations, Dear -- and to make some plans. Tell me about Ted, here."

"I don't understand."

"Tell me why you chose to offer him a relationship last night. What separated him from your other candidates?"

"Well, I..." Claudette shrugged. "He has a certain dangerous charm. And he also seems to be able to read people. And he has a knack for getting himself out of serious trouble." She shook her head. "Actually, I underestimated him."

Charlotte nodded. "And is that a bad thing?"

"It almost was." 'Given the way things are, do I want to get Ted into trouble?' Claudette wondered.

"So Ted related to me last night," Charlotte replied smoothly. "Your empty-headedness almost landed you on the endangered species list!"

"Yes, Mom." Claudette hung her head.

"All's well that ends well, though -- and I think you did a good job, actually," her mother added breezily. "After last night, I'm sure you have questions, Dear."

"Well," Claudette replied. "I don't understand why you let Ted stay, exactly -- and I don't understand why you encouraged us to have sex! Not that I'm upset, or anything," she added.

"It's all fairly simple, Dear," Charlotte replied. "Your father and I have been shielding you from sex -- and from your sexual nature -- for your own good."

"Doesn't every parent try that?" Claudette replied.

"Certainly most try," her mother replied. "But you are exceptionally vulnerable, as you have no doubt discovered."

"Ted's smell?"

"Ted's smell." Charlotte sighed. "This pheromone thing isn't limited to Ted, Princess -- about one boy in twelve can excite you to the point that you lose your ability to make rational decisions. That's why we took such harsh measures to ensure that you distanced yourself from boys." She turned to Ted. "Claudette's ignorance in matters sexual is deliberately appalling -- you're going to need to teach her just about everything. We either lied to her or kept her in ignorance about every aspect of sexual behavior that we possibly could -- and attempted to instill superstition and prejudice where we could not."

Charlotte turned back to Claudette. "Those old-world southern belle manners I instilled in you were designed to keep you from attracting boys and gathering any real understanding of sex while obtaining a social standing. Now, we're going to allow you to flower -- but hopefully, we can maintain your social standing and reputation in the process. When I was your age..." She sighed. "When I was your age, I made many mistakes, and it took a long time to fix some of them -- some I may never live down."

"Okay," Claudette sipped her coffee. "So what changes? And this was all because of me sucking Ted?"

Charlotte frowned. "Actually, if it had been ONLY that, we might have taken a different tack," she replied. "You're probably lucky; I'd have abused you with what a slut you are and closeted you from boys totally. No, you giving someone else gratification would have put you on the road, and we would have changed tactics, but it is what Ted did for YOU that REALLY requires that we change things."

"It does?" Claudette flicked a glance at Ted. "Which thing?"

Charlotte regarded her daughter for a moment, her face expressionless. "How long after Ted brought you to orgasm with his hand did you wait to touch yourself?"

"Oh." Claudette looked guilty. "An hour -- maybe two."

Charlotte nodded. "Exposure to the pheromone awakens you sexually, but until you actually have an orgasm, things do not get out of hand. When you do, though, things really take off, and you start needing regular release. Like you, I did not obtain my first orgasm through intercourse -- and I was secretive, anyway; my mother did not discover that I was touching myself, my teachers did -- and that was not until I was habituated and could not keep my hand out of my panties, even in public! I shamed my family and got kicked out of several schools -- not to mention the reputation I acquired. Of course, that reputation brought me opportunities for intercourse, which set me off and running..." She shook away the memories. "You needed to know early that your fingers are no substitute for a penis -- or even a tongue! That's why I sent Ted up to finish the job last night -- it is really fortunate that you managed to find him."

Claudette frowned. "You've said that a couple of times now, Mom. Why?"

Charlotte sighed. "In the first place, there are the attributes that you have identified. In the second, there is the issue of his smell. And finally, there are the attributes that I discovered in my conversation with him..."

"Like what?"

"You're an adult now," Charlotte replied, "so I plan to limit my verbal abuse of you -- but there are certain realities, here... He's smarter than you, for one thing."

"Mom!"

"I wasn't being nasty, I was stating facts. He also has a certain predatory instinct, and the grit to do whatever is necessary to move forward with a plan once it is conceived. This could be invaluable, not only to you, but to all of us." Charlotte replied.

"I fail to..."

"Surely you see that you will require continued supervision," Charlotte pointed out. "Trust me, where sex is concerned, you CANNOT trust your impulses! You need someone to watch your back -- and Ted, for both the reasons you picked him for in the first place and the ones I've enumerated -- is an excellent choice. He can support your social position, and he can keep you from ending up on your back with the wrong boy..." She smirked. "Of course, this will only work if he's the RIGHT boy -- perhaps I'm setting you both up for failure..."

Claudette looked at Ted. The reasons that she had originally picked him still held force -- but he had tricked her, lied to her, abused her -- basically raped her... On the other hand, she had lied to him from the outset, and according to him it was the primary reason for a number of his actions. Then, when you looked at the flip side, he had proven that he COULD be gentle with her, and he was a VERY satisfactory lover... She wasn't going to be able to manipulate him -- but he DID respond well to direct dealing... "Well, he oversteps himself, sometimes -- he's TOO aggressive. But he listens..."

Charlotte cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. What she WASN'T hearing was 'no'. "I think maybe the pair of you have gone over this a bit already, which is a good thing. The only thing that might have changed for you is the realization that Ted is not unique in being able to trigger your worst behavior. On the other hand, Ted may BE unique in the fact that he combines that with his other attributes..." She turned to Ted. "And you?"

Ted shrugged. "Claudette is right; I can be an extremist. But she's offered good advice in that area, and I think I was smart enough to take it. Each of us tends to see the exploitable parts of a social situation -- and each of us can benefit from a second opinion. Claudette brings a lot to the table; she did, actually, before last night, but it was unattainable, so it was useless to me." He took a sip of coffee. "That's all changed -- actually, it did before we got into sex, and I started recognizing it while I was still setting her up to teach her a lesson; once you get inside her shell, she's pretty decent. I think we have a helluva lot better shot than we did last night when she hit me up -- although, to be fair, there WAS something to be had, even then."

"You need to realize that this isn't going to be any walk in the park," Charlotte cautioned Ted. "For one thing, there will be times when you will be unable to keep up!" She turned to her daughter, "Princess, by the time I was your age, I'd pulled my first train -- and it wasn't the last, by a LOOONG shot!"

Claudette's face said she probably didn't want to know, but... "Pulled a train?"

"Gang bang -- multiple guys," Ted interjected.

"Ewwwww!"

Charlotte shrugged. "You'll get the urge -- and nothing less will do! But we'll help you keep it... anonymous..." She turned to Ted. "We WILL help. We can arrange venues where she can handle this kind of thing in a secure environment -- or at least anonymously -- but she'll probably slip the leash at some point. Besides, you'll want to be there, anyway, unless I miss my guess..." She sighed. "In the right mood, she's not safe with girls, either, although it's less of a trigger situation; without a male present, she CAN control herself -- but under certain circumstances, she may not want to. That will be something to keep an eye out for." She turned back to Claudette, "I was a slut -- I turned pajama parties into lesbian lick-offs. I'd hate to tell you how I put myself through college!"

Hubert roused himself. "Let's not succumb to the urge for true confessions, Dear." Charlotte sighed and nodded. Hubert turned his attention to Ted, "You're gonna wear horns, Son. Charlotte gets caught short periodically even now. Claudette is in her prime; we're talking about wild sex parties, hanging out while she takes on a couple of dozen boys three at a time..."

"Daddy!" Claudette ranted, "You make it sound like I'm some sort of wild monster, or something!"

"Sorry, Princess, but he deserves to know what he's getting into! You do, too, for that matter!" Hubert insisted.

Ted was rubbing his forehead. Hubert offered some solace, "She'll be back, after, and she'll be sorry, and she'll look to you to make her hurts all better." He turned a gimlet eye on his daughter, "And she has NOTHING to say about anything YOU do while she is entertaining herself!"

Neither of the young people looked particularly happy. Ted was thoughtful, and Claudette looked distinctly unhappy. But Ted looked at Claudette and husked, "I can handle it, all things being equal."

Claudette shook her head. "I'm not like that! It's not going to happen! Really!"

Charlotte passed a significant glance with Hubert, who nodded and looked at Ted, raising his eyebrows. Ted pursed his lips and thought about it for a moment, then drew Claudette to him, deliberately tucking her into his armpit. Charlotte took over the rebuttal, murmuring, "You don't understand, Princess. Functionally, you have a disease, like depression, or gambling. It's not your fault that you're a slut..."

Claudette, now relaxed, responding to the gentlest of pressures, dropped her head into Ted's lap, protesting petulantly, "But I haven't done anything like that!"

"Are you sure, Princess? What about last night? How did you feel about sucking Ted's cock?"

"It's a penis, Mom." But Claudette was rooting in Ted's lap. "What's wrong with saying penis?"

"Nothing, Dear. But there are other names -- or nicknames, if you will. You should learn them -- words like cock, dick, peter, joint, Johnson, prick, rod... There are a whole bunch. Do you know the parts?"

"Ummm, no..."

"Well, it's fortunate that you have Ted to teach you, don't you think?"

"Umm hummm..." Ted was hard; he couldn't help it with Claudette rubbing her face all over his crotch and feeling him up through his pants.

"It's fortunate that he can teach you all about yourself, too, don't you think?" Charlotte added blandly. "Do you know all of your parts? Do you know the difference between a nipple and an areole?"

"Mmmmm, think so..." Claudette started digging at her robe. In a moment, she had it half off, shrugging out of the left sleeve.

"You shouldn't touch yourself," Charlotte reminded her daughter. "Tell Ted what to do..."

"Nipple is the pointy part," Claudette mumbled, taking Ted's hand and placing it on her breast. "Areole is the dark part around it, right?"

"That's right, Princess," Charlotte agreed reasonably. "Does it feel good when Ted plays with it?"

"Oh, God, yes!" Claudette moaned. Her cookie was a swamp!

"What about below? Do you know the parts?"

"Not all... Ummm, vagina... Claudette took Ted's hand and moved it to her crotch, going so far as to straighten a finger and direct it into her channel. "Other parts, not sure..."

Charlotte nodded at Ted. "Ted will help point out other things. There are lips down there, or labia." Ted ran his finger up and down Claudette's pink channel, then caught one of her thick outer labia between his thumb and forefinger. "Girls differ in this, but there are two sets. Your outer lips are thicker, see?"

"Um hum..." Claudette was gazing at the hand working her crotch, owlishly.

"Up at the top, there, that little bump that gives you such pleasure is called a clitoris, or a clit. Nice, isn't it?" Charlotte droned. Hubert was looking away... "Do you know any slang names for your womanhood?"

"I call it a cookie..." Claudette mused.

"That's an unusual, little girl name for it. Ted, if you would?" Charlotte asked.

"Um, okay. Pussy is pretty standard, but there are others, like cunt, twat, snatch, cooze, slot, furburger... Probably a dozen more..." Ted racked his brain.

"In any case, you're probably too old for cookie, Princess. You should really pick something else out," Charlotte chided. "And you should really learn about boys..."

Claudette needed no further encouragement to start tearing at Ted's belt. "Princess!" Charlotte admonished, "Be polite!"

"Please show me..." Claudette's expression was wistful.

Charlotte shrugged, waved a hand. Fortunately, she was a foot or two distant. She glanced up at Hubert, who was watching her, instead of her daughter. 'Good. He'll keep me out of trouble...'

Ted suffered the opening of his belt, the unzipping of his trousers, and a bit of tugging before asking, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Uh huh." Claudette was thoroughly focused. Ted shrugged and raised himself; Claudette slipped to the ground, dumping the robe off her other shoulder in the process.

"So, Princess, what parts do you know? Ted, do you have a foreskin?"

"No, I'm circumcised," Ted replied.

"Well, you'll have to learn about that another day, Princess -- basically, it's a layer of skin that slides over the tip, protecting it. Do you know what a cock tip is called? The head, there?"

"Um, no..."

Charlotte waved at Ted, who responded, "It's called a glans."

"Nice, isn't it?" Charlotte asked.

"Uh huh." Looking wasn't enough; Claudette was smelling it, rubbing against it with her cheek.

"Of course, sperm doesn't come from there," Charlotte murmured.

"No," Claudette husked. "Testicles."

"Right," Charlotte agreed. "Testicles, balls, nuts... Do you know what the little sack they're in is called? That thing you're licking?"

"Ummm..." Claudette continued licking.

"Scrotum," Ted supplied. "I can't think of any nicknames -- everybody sort of goes for the balls... Easy! Gentle!" Claudette was sucking his tender testicles between her lips.

Hubert sighed. "I think our work is done here, for now."

Charlotte disagreed. "Not quite yet, Dear -- she'll need the full impact."

Ted frowned. "You did this so that later..." Claudette was actively sucking his cock, now, and clutching his left hand to her right breast.

Charlotte nodded. "Yes..." Turning her attention to her daughter, she queried, "Do you know what you're doing now?"

Claudette backed off with a pop. "Blow job?"

"That's right. The technical name for it is fellatio."

"It seems pretty natural to her," Ted ventured. "When she comes out..."

"We're not going to rely upon memory," Charlotte replied. "See there?" She flicked her eyes at a room corner -- and Ted discovered a camera. "There are two others," she added, "When we debrief this, we'll have plenty of evidence, I think." Shifting her attention to Claudette, she murmured, "Fellatio is fun, but it isn't that physically satisfying, is it, Dear?"

"Uh uh." Claudette's loins had been on fire for several minutes. She knew what she was doing -- but everybody has sex with their boyfriend, right? Besides, this was sex education... She pushed Ted's chair back until it was clear of the table, stood, and mounted Ted's erection, cowgirl-style. "Aaaahhhh!! God, I needed that!"

"I'm sure you did," Charlotte simpered. "Do you know what that is called? If you love the boy, it's making love -- if you don't, it's fucking, or screwing, or getting laid... The technical name is intercourse."

"Uh huh." 'Shut up, Mom! I'm busy, here!' Claudette set up a good, solid bounce, driven by flexing thighs and her hands on Ted's shoulders. Ted forbore making any movement himself -- it was a waste of energy he might need later.

"There are lots of ways to have sex," Charlotte rattled on. "Many positions. The one you're using is called 'cowgirl'..."

"Uh... huh... I'm... real busy... Mom!" Claudette got out. 'Why won't she shut up and let me enjoy myself?' Her first orgasm was already there, hovering. Ted's cock was SOOOO good! He was so sweet, holding still so she could get everything the way she wanted it! She could feel it, now; she perceived her orgasm rushing down on her like the headlight of a train in a railroad tunnel.

Annoyance flickered across Charlotte's features, but it was minor. She got up and approached her bouncing daughter. "One final question, Princess, and Mom will let you alone. Are you fucking, Dear, or are you making love?"

Claudette's eyes locked on Ted's -- and glowed. "I'm making love..."

Ted smiled back. That was sneaky... In the meantime, Charlotte was rubbing his shoulder, beaming. Ted enjoyed it for a moment, then a thought impinged on his consciousness and he became uneasy. Was Claudette's mother getting a little pink? "Mister Pinkersley?"

"Coming..." Claudette's father appeared behind Charlotte, wrapping an arm around her and deliberately cupping her breast through her robe. "Yeah, you're right. Call me Hubert, Son. I'll take care of this..." Hubert put his lips on his wife's neck and murmured, "Come away, Dear. I'll take care of you in private, so that you're not embarrassed later. Okay?" Charlotte allowed herself to be pulled away from the now wildly bouncing couple. "Bend over a bit, and I'll give you a treat while I talk to Princess for a moment..."

Both Claudette and Ted watched as Hubert opened Charlotte's robe, reached in, and collected a dangling breast. "There, how's that?" he asked, rolling a nipple.

"Nice," Charlotte husked.

Hubert turned his attention to the rutting couple. "You two are generating quite an aura," he observed. He cupped Claudette's chin. "You don't want to hurt Ted, Princess -- let him get his, then stop and let him eat so he can keep up his strength. You want to be able to enjoy him again and again, so don't be greedy!"

"Yes, Daddy. I-- AAAAAUUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!" Claudette's eyes rolled up and she went manic. The concept of again and again pushed her right over the edge.

"Come along, Charlotte," Hubert murmured, releasing his wife's breast. "Let's go upstairs..."

"Have a good time, Princess!" Charlotte threw over her shoulder. "I'm going to go upstairs and get your father to fuck my brains out!"

Hubert locked eyes with Ted and rolled his, but kept Charlotte moving. Claudette was in no shape to respond, anyway... "We'll reconvene at lunch and discuss the results of this demonstration. In the meantime, if you need anything... You might want to check in with your parents, at some point..." Charlotte was dragging Hubert as they disappeared.

Claudette was coming down from her first orgasm. "Uuuhhh! Legs gone..." She bounced weakly, obviously unbalanced.

Ted grinned. "No problem. I'll just teach you another position..." He lifted her off, turned her, and draped her over the table, scattering dishes everywhere, then plugged himself in and took over the stroke, "This is called doggie style, Hon..." Maybe he'd managed to hold control long enough to cum, this way...

Louise Bryant hummed as she loaded her bed linens into the washer; the two towels she had draped on the bed had proven totally inadequate to collect the gushers she created when she came around Dwayne's pounding cock -- and there was an issue of bloodstains from her now fully-obliterated maidenhead, something thoroughly incriminating, should her mother discover it. Pushing Dwayne out the door at ten had been one of the hardest things she had ever done, but she HAD to get ready for the eleven o'clock service; if she didn't show up, Mother would kill her! Okay, maybe not KILL, but GROUND, certainly -- and that was intolerable, now. Being there for Dwayne was now an issue of the utmost importance, and if it meant being angelic in Mother's presence, so be it.

Louise waddled to her room and began to dress; she was sore from the morning's exercise, but it was a good sore -- a very satisfactory sore. It was another thing she would have to hide, but it was well worth it; she hadn't been so happy since... Gee, since when? Still humming, she waddled out the door, headed for church.

Nate wheeled his battered car up in front of Draper's place, and Draper, already out on the steps, hopped in. "Hey."

"Hey," Draper grunted. "So, dis is all cool?"

"Yeh. All cool. They got plenty of work, Man." The drive to the east side of town went pleasantly, like old times; Nate and Draper could talk about anything -- even pussy. Once, it was ESPECIALLY pussy, but that was when they were doing without...

Stick was a subject of conversation. "I cain't believe that shit!" Nate grunted.

"You're readin' too much inta it," Draper counseled. "It's like this -- Stick likes getting' his dick wet. This Teddy is white meat what don't mind suckin' a dick. I hear tell dat dudes suck better, 'cause dey know what da fuck dey doin'..."

Nate grinned. "I thought you was cleanin' up your language..." Tenisha wanted Draper showing his true colors, not playing 'Boyz in the Hood'.

Draper grinned back. "Practicin' fo' work. Might come in handy bein' 'dat stupid nigger'..."

Nate shrugged. "Don' think so. They're cool."

"Whatever. Anyway, upshot is that Stick's got two bitches to poke. Don't make him queer. Shit, this Teddy likes pussy, too..."

Nate chuckled. "Fat Mary's pussy..."

"Jus' 'cause it be packed in blubber don' mean it ain't no good! She's getting' two dicks -- mus' be somethin' good about it!"

"Yeh, I guess. What about that asshole shit?"

"Booty is booty. One day I'll turn 'Nisha up..." Draper grinned. "Looka here -- just pretend Teddy is inna dress an' don' fuckin' worry 'bout it!"

"Yeah, I guess. I just get caught up in the idea of Stick suckin' dick..."

"You be makin' a problem where one don't exist. Even if he is doin' Teddy -- and I ain't sayin' he is -- it's probly more like lickin' clit. An' it's between them, an' not goin' nowhere else."

Nate grunted. "Yeh. Guess so."

DiAngelo was on the dock, smoking. "Brought a frien'," Nate related.

"Yah. Gotta call." The 'Didn't like it' went unsaid. "Least he looks like he can carry shit. What's your name?"

"Draper Travis." Draper thought about adding 'suh', but decided it'd be taken for bullshit. Too many other bruthuhs around, some of 'em grinning. Fat little muthafuckah must be cool...

"Awright. Ride with Nate and Roland. Roland says you pull your weight, we'll talk about it." DiAngelo dismissed them both with a wave. "Roland! Ya got two! Lemme see ya do two more stops!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Roland scratched at his cast. "That's right, saddle me with newbies, then tell me I gotta make up fo' 'em!"

Diangelo rolled his eyes. "How much time you gonna waste, standing there makin' like a bitch?"

"Whyn't you go pork Stella an' let us git shit done 'round here, efficient like?" Roland rasped back.

DiAngelo grunted. "There's a plan..." He stumped off.

Roland swept his eyes over the pair. "Awright, Nate, you know where shit is -- no excuse. Le's git goin'!" The pair set to, with Roland making corrections in his inimitable manner, and they were soon on the road.

Dwayne was happy -- until he got home. Louise was a joy; all she seemed to want was to make him happy. And the sex -- wow! Dwayne's run-in with Darla Jean had left him with a certain amount of performance anxiety, but Louise had certainly changed that! She'd cum three times, washing his balls with a river of pussy juice each time -- so much that they had to strip her bed and wipe up the rug! You don't fake pops like THAT! No, Louise had a lot going for her -- one of the really nice pieces of which was her athleticism! Girls like Claudette -- or even Darla Jean -- looked nice now; they were thin and smooth, everything under control -- but let's face it, they got pregnant -- and after that, ninety five percent of them forgot all about exercise and turned into something that resembled pudding. Louise was round and smooth and solidly built -- and a bit thicker here and there than those skinny pin-up types -- but to FEEL her was to feel toned muscle! Her calves... She'd stood on her toes to get laundry soap off the top shelf and her legs went tight -- and Dwayne got chills! The girl had a SIX-PACK, for God's sake! You could see it when she came! Tuesday, they were gonna play tennis -- and Dwayne expected to get his ass whipped! One on one basketball was gonna be a bitch too! Dwayne wished he had seen Louise play field hockey; maybe she would go out for a team in college...

It was in this distracted frame of mind that his mother caught him just inside the front door, "So, tell us all about Darla Jean Nevins!"

"Who?"

"You have sex with a girl in the Boys Locker Room and you don't remember her name?"

"Uh... Wait a minute..." Dwayne made an effort to get his head together. In the background, his sister Becky was smirking. "Dammit, Becky!"

"Hey, it's YOUR turn to sit in the hot seat!" his sister replied. "I've been there for HOURS!"

"If you'd kept your big fat mouth shut in the FIRST place..."

"That's enough, young man! SHE'S not engaging in irresponsible sex!" Dwayne's mother rasped.

"I wasn't, either!" Dwayne retorted.

"What do YOU call it? I don't know why you didn't go to jail for rape!"

"STOP!!!" Dwayne yelled. "I had NOTHING to do with... Okay, I was there... Just hold on!"

"I think maybe you'd better tell your side of the story, Son," his father interjected.

"Yeah," Dwayne agreed, glaring at Becky. "Me, too!"

"I'm waiting..." Donna Hansen glared at her son.

"Okay, it goes something like this..." Dwayne sat down on a dining room chair. "Darla Jean -- for reasons known ONLY to her -- decided to start stalking me this week. Why, I dunno." He shrugged. "Wednesday night, she was there at basketball practice and Coach had to leave. I volunteered to lock up, and she stayed with me. One thing led to another, and the next thing I knew, we were having sex..."

"Unprotected sex?" his mother accused.

"No, Ma'am! We were using rubbers!" Dwayne shook his head. "You don't understand -- Darla Jean was driving! I'd have never managed to make it happen like that -- it was all her idea!"

"Darla Jean said it was a rape!" Becky accused.

Dwayne glared at his sister. "Oh, it was a rape, all right -- but I wasn't the rapist!"

"Who was?" his mother sneered. "Darla Jean?"

Dwayne rolled his eyes -- and ducked a swing from his mother for it. "Stop! Are you going to convict me before you hear ANYTHING but noises from that tattletale over there? LET ME FINISH!" By the end of this, he was holding his mother's forearm while she furiously attempted to extract it.

"DONNA!" Mark Hansen roared. "THIS IS OUR SON! Act civil!"

"I don't know if I want to claim him!"

"Shut the Hell up and find out!"

"Fine!" Dwayne let go of his furious mother's arm and she stepped back.

"Now." Dwayne composed himself. "The rapist was Ted Phipps! He hid himself somewhere in the gym, and he waited until we were busy, then he forced himself on Darla Jean!"

"Right!" Donna rolled her eyes. "Why didn't you stop it?"

"Ted can be a real bastard," Dwayne replied. "He has a reputation. In a stand-up fight, I'd probably get my ass kicked -- and I was buck naked and, well, busy..."

"So you just got yours and let Ted have his way," Donna sneered.

Dwayne sat a moment, looking unhappy. "There's a lot of truth to that. I've been beating myself up over that for a few days -- but Darla Jean made the call, actually -- she wanted us to finish."

"Do you HEAR yourself?" Donna sneered. "You're absolutely disgusting! What a tale! Darla Jean lured you into sex. Ted came in and had his way with her, but Darla Jean let it happen because she wanted you to finish! Who are you? Casanova?"

Dwayne sat there, fuming. "This sucks! My OWN FAMILY treats me like this! Look, only one person can tell you how it happened! Darla Jean!"

"Oh, right! Like I'm going to call that poor girl!"

"No, you'd rather call ME a liar!" Dwayne roared. He got up and stomped toward the door, but Mark interposed himself. "Dad, dammit, I do NOT have to put up with this! It's an inquisition! There is no proof, and no interest in getting any!"

"If you walk, Son, you're not coming back..."

"Then I HAVE to be allowed to vindicate myself!"

"He's right, Donna," Mark insisted over Dwayne's shoulder. "You're stringing him up over hearsay. And the police have NOT darkened our door..."

"Look what he's asking!"

"We'll approach it carefully."

"Hello?" Darla Jean picked up the phone on the eighth ring -- it NEVER rang on Sunday.

"Darla Jean? This is Becky Hansen."

"Hello," Darla Jean replied carefully.

"Look, I'm Dwayne's sister..."

"Uh huh..."

"I'm hearing stuff at school. Stuff that makes Dwayne sound bad. Stuff about you..."

"I really don't want to talk about it..."

"Look, is Dwayne gonna get arrested?"

"Huh? For what?" Darla Jean finally opened up. "That bastard Ted Phipps ought to, but I'd never get a conviction..."

"Look, Dwayne's in a lot of trouble at home. I need to know things..." Becky entreated.

"Okay." Darla Jean sighed. "It was all my fault. I chased Dwayne down and lured him into having sex with me."

"Really? Why?"

"If I told you, you'd think I'm some kind of slut or something. But trust me, I showed up out of the blue and did everything but stick it in me."

Darla Jean didn't know she was on speaker; Donna was amazed -- and disbelieving. She waved at Becky, who got the hint. "That's kinda hard to swallow. How am I gonna convince my parents of that?"

"I don't know if even the truth would do that," Darla Jean sighed. "You see, it was a science experiment, more or less..."

"A what?" Everyone was taken aback, including Dwayne!

"Yeah, I know. Look, Becky, you know I'm in honors classes, right? Science and math? Well, I do things a little different. Last weekend, I discovered sex -- and it was absolutely fabulous! But I didn't know whether it was sex in general, or it was the boy, you know? Was this guy really Superman, or was it the act itself? Could I do better? So I set out to get a statistical sample; Dwayne had a reputation as a median -- or maybe a bit less than median -- performer. So I chased him down to get one shot with him and see how it compared..."

Donna was glaring at her son. How did he get this reputation, exactly? How many other girls had he had sex with? Still...

"That's pretty weird," Becky opined.

"Yeah, it is -- but it is the way I did it and it's the real reason. I can prove it -- but I'd prefer not to."

"So, why am I hearing about a rape?"

Darla Jean sighed. "We managed a set-up -- Dwayne got to lock up the gym. I got totally shameless, we got organized, and we were doing it, you know? Look, you can't blame a boy if a girl gets naked in front of him and says 'Let's do it...' They're not really built to resist that -- and it's basically what I did. Anyway, we were busy, and Ted Phipps comes out of hiding and starts messing us over. Dwayne and I kind of made the call at the time by instinct, but it was the right one; Ted would have probably beat the crap out of both of us, and maybe even done something MORE dangerous! Besides, Dwayne and I were close to finishing, and I wanted my sample..."

"You're kidding!"

"I wish I was. I was all hot and I needed to finish -- so I encouraged Dwayne to go ahead and I put up with Ted until he was done. Then, of course, Ted had to take his turn... He's a real piece of work; on top of everything else, he's just NASTY! I didn't want him, but he wasn't going to leave -- and it WAS another sample..." Darla Jean paused. "Isn't this the damnedest thing you ever heard?" She was sniffling into the phone.

"So Dwayne..."

"Dwayne was an angel! He took care of me afterwards, and helped me clean up -- even cuddled me some to help me with the jitters! You tell your folks that bad things went down that night, but Dwayne wasn't one of them!"

"They'll never believe this..." Becky murmured.

"Look, I'll talk to them if I have to -- but I'd rather just put this behind me. I have a boyfriend now -- turns out it WAS the boy! -- and I just want this swept under the rug."

"So, Dwayne..."

"Dwayne's only guilty of being a boy. A NICE boy, actually!"

"Well, thanks..."

"Sure. Becky? Can we not have this go around? The experiment thing -- That would surely embarrass Dwayne, and it's not his fault..."

"Sure. No problem. I'll try to keep that out of things at home, too."

"Thanks loads! Bye!" Darla Jean hung up, relieved that the conversation was over.

Mark Hansen puffed out a breath. "It appears you owe Dwayne an apology, Donna."

"Not yet I don't. Where did this reputation for being 'less than median' come from?" Donna was still sneering.

"That's enough!" Mark growled. "You don't insult a man about his prowess -- especially if you don't know anything about it -- and you DON'T for DAMN sure!"

"So, he's a man now?"

"It appears so, from several measures..."

"I STILL want to know!"

Dwayne smiled wryly. "I can guess where the poor review came from. Last year. One of the cheerleaders got wild after an away game and took on all comers. There was... considerable peer pressure..."

"Yeah, right!" Donna Hansen wasn't giving her only son ANY breaks!

"I tried to apologize later," Dwayne added, "but she passed it off. Said something like, 'Next time, go twice -- maybe I'll remember you...' She's gone -- she was a senior last year..."

"Just the one?" Donna prompted.

"There were... a couple of others," Dwayne admitted. "Look, if you're going to want to track my movements for the last four years, you're 'WAY too late!"

"I trusted you!" Donna screeched.

"To do what?" Dwayne returned. "I haven't hurt ANYBODY!"

"So you say!" Donna jeered. "Where were you this morning -- with this Darla Jean, setting up your alibi?"

"What?" Dwayne was nonplussed. "What IS it with you, Mom?"

"THAT... IS... ENOUGH!!!" Mark roared. "Donna, apologize to your son! NOW!"

"I WILL...." But Mark was glaring at her. "Oh, all right! I'm sorry!" Clearly, she wasn't.

Mark nodded, but turned to Dwayne. "We still need to hear about this morning, Son."

"Pop, I told you I was going to see a girl before I left. And I told you it was a different girl. None of that has changed."

"Did you have sex, Son?"

Dwayne shook his head. "Look, the trust is gone. Her mom is a piece of work who will have a fit if she even discovers I exist -- and now I can't bring her here, or really even talk about her. That really sucks." He got up and stalked out.

Mark followed his son outside. "Son, your mother has a thing about guys who spread themselves around. She got burned pretty bad by a guy in school who was supposedly just hers, but was really dipping a lot of girls. The guy got some other girl pregnant, and there was a lot of fallout."

"Pop, I never really messed with a girl who didn't put it out there on her own -- and I never lied to any of them. There really were only a couple, anyway, and they were looking to be, you know, my girl -- the popularity thing. It didn't work, and we parted ways -- and they weren't really surprised, anyway. You know what I mean?"

"I think so. Low-grade stuff, looking for the brass ring?"

"Yeah."

"Still, your mom isn't really going to want to hear about it."

"Okay, that's cool." It wasn't; an angry young man was talking. "But you know, I want to bring home the real thing, and I just can't, now."

"The real thing? Since Wednesday?"

"Pop, it ought to be clear by now that Wednesday wasn't a normal day!"

"So you knew this girl before?"

"Well, we weren't dating before." Dwayne shook his head. "Wednesday, well, kind of made me a new rep."

Mark blinked. "As a rapist?"

Dwayne got mad. "If Becky would bother to bring home a straight story every once in a while... No, Pop -- I picked up a rep as a nice guy who cared and treated girls nice and took care of them! Where the fuck WERE you for that phone call?"

"Dwayne..."

"Well, shit!"

"Okay, okay! So, you go see a girl on a Sunday morning. Why?"

"Because her mom is some kind of holy-roller who thinks if she breathes the same air as a boy she's gonna go to Hell, or something!"

"So, her mother is at church?"

"They both are, now."

"Okay, so, she goes to church. That's nice. How many times have you seen her, since Wednesday?"

Dwayne took a count. "Three. The first time wasn't so much a date as just me taking her home, but we hung out a while, first."

"Hung out?"

"Yeah. Talked. Okay, maybe smooched a time or two."

"On the first date?"

"You didn't kiss girls goodnight? C'mon, Pop!"

Dwayne looked back toward the porch -- and found the Inquisition standing there.

"Okay, so, you dated again..."

"We went to the movies last night -- with another couple." Okay, it was a stretch, sort of. Actually, though, it WAS how it worked out...

"Another couple..." sounded from the porch.

"Yes, Mouth, why don't you get on the phone to your spy network and discover who was out at Gino's last night with Rob and Mary Eikenberry?" Dwayne sneered at Becky.

"Rob and Mary?" Becky was incredulous.

"Rob and Mary."

Becky turned to her mother. "He HAS to be telling the truth! It's too easy to check! Heck, it'll be all over school tomorrow, anyway!" But she picked up her phone, anyway.

"Okay, so, three dates, including this morning. That's not a lot, Son."

"Well, we're not engaged..."

"LOUISE!" Becky cut across the conversation. "Louise Bryant? Dorky dyke?"

"Hey!" Dwayne shouted.

"Well? Have you SEEN what she wears? Like something out of the old west or the fifties!" Becky turned to her mother. "She wears stuff that makes her shapeless from her neck to her ankles -- but I bet she's fat! She's GOT to be a dyke!"

Dwayne started laughing, and he laughed so hard the tears rolled! Mark approached his son, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah," Dwayne raised up from the bent over position emptying his lungs left him in. "Sis, if you can't get it wrong, you don't even bother, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're so superficial! Did you ever think that the way she dresses might be out of Louise's hands?" Dwayne shook his head. "Louise's mother is some kind of psycho holy-roller type who thinks all boys are demons and dresses her deliberately in stuff that makes her look bad!"

"So she's a dyke, right?" Becky kept pushing.

"Her mother might be, but Louise isn't," Dwayne replied. "Not even close, although she pretty scared of boys in general." He glared at his sister. "Obviously she gets a lot of help with that from other girls..."

"So, about Sunday mornings..." Mark prompted.

"It's the only time her mother is out of the house..." Dwayne replied, "and that means it is the only time I can visit her there."

"Visit her for what?" Donna prompted.

"For ANY purpose!" Dwayne replied.

"But what did you do this morning?"

"Why, nothing! She's a dyke, remember? That's what your perfect source of information says!" Dwayne grated.

"Dwayne!"

"No! This is over! It is none of your business! You don't trust me to do right, but you'll listen to her mixture of lies and prejudice -- even in the face of other information!" Dwayne spat. "I thought I had a family!"

"But you're having sex with girls!" Donna screeched.

"And you had sex with boys at my age, obviously!" Dwayne retorted hotly. "And I DON'T hear you asking HER to account for HER activities!" He pointed a finger at Becky. "Of course, she'd lie to you, anyway!" He turned for the truck, "I'm out of here!"

"ENOUGH!" Mark roared. "The boy is right, Donna! You're painting him in dark colors and you have NOTHING to support it with! Boys his age have sex -- I did -- and so do girls! They date, they have relationships, and they get married, for Christ's sake! Lay off! Becky has been VERY busy spreading rumors -- and you're sucking them in, hook, line and sinker! What the Hell is your problem?"

"I want to see this Louise," Donna sulked.

"I don't think you've earned the right!" Mark retorted.

"Mark!" Donna whined.

"I've got a funny feeling Louise is a nice girl -- and NOT a dyke!" Mark replied. "Not that the two are mutually exclusive. Becky, aside from her wardrobe, do you have any evidence of her sexual preferences?"

"No, Sir." Becky knew when it was time to shut up.

"Okay. She's at church with her mother -- who doesn't know you exist?" Mark queried Dwayne.

"Yes."

"Do you know what church?"

"No."

"What do you know about it?"

"Ummm, her mother had to leave at seven thirty to prepare for the first service, and she had to be there at eleven to attend a later one."

"You figure they're kind of extreme?" Mark asked.

"Well, her mother is -- but maybe the church isn't."

"Let's go for a ride." Mark opened the passenger door of the pickup. "We'll be back," he told the women.