Chapter 57
Some Ugly Confrontations

Teddy picked up Stick on his third lap around the block; he tended not to park -- it was an invitation to get noticed. "Hey." Stick hopped in.

"Hi." They did nothing besides the greeting, which bothered Teddy a bit, but a lot of things weren't smart in THIS neighborhood. Besides, they really hadn't gotten to being demonstrative -- and maybe never would...

"What did your Mama say?"

"Well, it started out bad, but eventually it all shook out. She knows we're seeing each other, um, as a relationship..."

"Like, for sex?" Stick queried.

"Is that all there is to it?" Teddy shot back.

Stick slumped in the seat, puffing out a sigh. How far DID they go? There were things that he felt comfortable about, but mostly that was about stickin' his dick in poor Ted. Swapping spit and that kind of thing embarrassed him, when he thought about Ted as a guy -- but he was easy to think of as a bitch... That was something they really needed to work out -- should he be treating Ted as a bitch? Was that right? And could Ted handle it if he wanted to do things that way? Finally, he grunted, "I don' think so, but we gotta talk about it. I'm kinda fucked up over it."

Teddy shrugged. "Okay, that's fair..." Teddy was confused, too, actually. "Is today a good time?"

"Might be..." The pair shelved it, however, until after their arrival at the Frick home. Stick met Ma Frick ("Call me Frieda,") a thick-bodied woman no taller than Teddy with eyeglasses and graying hair tied up in a bun. After a few pleasantries, however, neither could think of anything to say, so Frieda left the boys (that's how Frieda thought of them, anyway) in the living room. Exhibition baseball was on; the pair flopped on the couch to watch -- or pretend to.

Stick had arrived in a sweatsuit -- well, sweatpants and a muscle shirt that exposed his narrow frame and bared his arms. Teddy was in jeans, and felt uncomfortable about it -- largely because he could see so much of Stick. "Hey, I'm gonna run upstairs and change -- these jeans are too tight."

"Cool." Stick nodded and went back to the TV. Ted's crib was a lot nicer to hang out in than his own, and he didn't have to fight with the twins to hear TV, so he was luxuriating a bit. Only when Teddy returned, similarly dressed, did Stick start putting two and two together. Maybe they oughta have that talk..."Hey, Ted, about earlier. Look, I'm new to this stuff, you know? Some things I'm just not up for, yet."

"Okay, like what?"

"Well, swappin' spit's a problem. I don't see me getting' there unless I think of ya as a girl. An' I'm not sure you're up with that..."

"You mean like act like a girl, dress like a girl..." Teddy frowned. "Scream and act silly and talk funny?"

"No, it's more of a head thing -- my head. I just think of you bein' a chick. You don't hafta pretend to be one."

"I dunno," Teddy replied. "I'm not sure kissing is important. I think I'd feel funny, too -- and I CAN'T think of YOU as a girl!"

Stick shrugged. "Okay. What CAN we do?"

Teddy squinted at the carpet. "Touch each other?"

"Like how?"

"Like at the movies the other night."

"Like hugging? An arm around the shoulder? Mebbe rub your back?"

"Yeah." Teddy's face said he wasn't sure, but it sounded good.

"Shit, that's cool..." Stick waved Teddy over. Teddy seated himself, and Stick wrapped an arm around him. "How's that?"

"It's... good..." Teddy nodded confirmation.

"Cool with me..." Stick nodded, too. The two settled back to watch baseball. Once they had gotten past the 'don't touch me' barrier imposed by cultural homophobia, Stick wasn't really satisfied to just wrap his arm around Teddy's shoulders. The primary issue seemed to be the contrasts between the two young men; color aside, they were still physically very different. Stick was taller, narrower, and harder, more firmly muscled. Teddy was shorter and, by comparison, more softly fleshed. This was the kind of contrast that made for manual voyages of discovery; Stick started rubbing, first Teddy's shoulders, then his back, feeling the texture of his flesh.

Teddy enjoyed the attention, and wanted to return it, but he wasn't in a position to rub Stick's back and shoulders. The only thing really in reach was Stick's leg...

... And that had an almost immediate effect. "Shit, Man, I'm getting' a boner! Sorry 'bout that..." Stick apologized.

"It's okay," Teddy replied. "Actually, it's kind of a compliment."

Stick thought about it. "Yeah, I guess. But it's kinda outside what we was tryin' to do..."

Teddy shrugged. "Yes and no."

"Okay." Stick dropped it. If Ted wasn't gonna get pissed, he might as well enjoy it. He put a bit more into the back rub, feeling around. Ted was just a little bit soft, just short of pudgy. Mary was softer, but she WAS pudgy -- and actually a ways beyond; it was something you dealt with, though, and Stick didn't really go there, mentally -- besides, it didn't change the fact that Ted was pleasant to rub on.

Stick was getting a serious tent in his sweats, though. He hadn't bothered with underwear, so his pecker was unrestricted under the sweatpants, which were the drawstring type without a fly. Now it was stiff, running at about forty-five degrees because the fabric wouldn't let it climb any more -- and it was bothering him. "Shit, Man, my shit's like..."

"Hurting? Looks uncomfortable."

"Yeah."

"I'll get it." Ted pulled the drawstring, which helped -- but he didn't stop there. Next, he lifted the waistband; Stick's cock rotated through the vertical and slapped his abs. "Better?" He lowered the waistband gently, since letting it snap would strike Stick's cock; when he was done, the tip stuck out.

"Yeah, thanks." Both of them went back to what they were doing. Stick's cock fought the loosened waistband of his sweats any time Teddy's hand approached it, bringing a smile to his face. Soon, baseball was forgotten -- he was busy trying to see how long at a time Stick's cock could hold his waistband in the air. Stick gave him a look. "You havin' fun, drivin' my ass nuts?"

"Yeah."

"You break the fuckin' thing, we ALL lose out! Mary'll kick your ass!"

Teddy giggled, reached in and grabbed a handful of cock. "How's that?"

Stick hissed a breath, throwing his head back. "That's what I'M talkin' about!"

"Raise up." Teddy was committed; he had a handful of warm meat, and he didn't want to let go.

"What about your Mama?" But Stick raised his hips, anyway.

Teddy pulled the sweatpants halfway down Stick's corded thighs. "She won't bother us, I don't think. Besides, you can always snatch them up..."

"Yeah..." Stick had no willpower while Teddy worked the fat plum of his cock head with his palm. How do you fight pleasure like that? Stick's nuts were begging for relief, anyway; since he got going with Teddy and Mary he'd basically stopped beating off... "Shit, that's good!" Teddy began steadily jacking his meat, long-stroking it with his hand. "Fuck!" He slumped back against the couch, spreading his legs and letting Teddy work. "What if I bust a nut?"

"I'll catch it," Teddy grinned. This was a lot of fun; the feel of Stick's cock in his hand was very satisfying, as was watching the look on Stick's face as he gloried in the attention, sucking up the sensations. "Like that?"

"Love it! Only one thing better -- well, maybe two or three..."

"... But I know what you're angling for," Teddy chuckled. He slid off the couch and went to his knees before it, not letting go of Stick's erection, glanced at the door -- and froze.

"Oh, go ahead," his mother said in a strangled voice. "My fault..." She'd been standing there with a couple of cold sodas in her hand since the waistband loosening, unwillingly mesmerized.

"Uh, Ma..." Teddy made to get up.

"Don't." Frieda crossed the room and put the sodas on the table behind him. "You two were doing fine. I'm sorry I intruded." She put her hand on Teddy's back. "Go ahead. Nobody's forcing you. I'm kind of pleased that I got to see that for myself -- I was worried about it. But I can see that it's all very natural..."

What she didn't mention was the fact that she was getting to see the object of Teddy's affection close up -- or the weird effect it was having on her. Teddy's penis had been an oddity -- besides, it was Teddy's. Stick's was, well, a good distance beyond her experience. It was twice as long as her husband's -- God rest his soul -- not to mention the pretty purple and black colors... And it brought feelings to her that she hadn't had in years! "I'll be running along," she choked out. "You boys have fun..."

"Ma..."

"Teddy, it's OKAY! Stick, don't let him get stupid, now! You two have fun!"

Stick reached out and cupped the back of Teddy's head -- not dragging him in, just keeping him from backing off and getting up. "Relax, Man! Don't look a gift horse in the mouth! My Pop would shit a brick, and my Mama would probably throw a conniption! Everything's cool!"

"Maybe." Teddy was troubled. Why was Ma being so accommodating? He watched her move slowly out of sight, looked up at Stick, bit his lip, shrugged, and lowered his mouth to Stick's bursting cock.

Frieda stood just out of sight around the corner, getting her breath. Something about that whole scene had her totally caught up in it -- hot -- itchy about her womanhood in ways that hadn't surfaced in a long time! And Stick's reaction to her admonition not to let Teddy move had sent an unexpected flash through her -- something about the control... She knew better than to look right away; Teddy would be watching the door. But she could hear...

"Uh, Ted?"

"Mmmm?"

"Look, this is uncool, but I gotta ask. How long has it been since your momma's been with a man, do you figure?"

Teddy's eyes popped. Backing off, he asked, "Why on Earth...?"

Stick held up his hands. "Easy! Look, Man, she was lookin', okay? Like she was seein' somethin' she ain't seen before!"

"Well, she wouldn't have seen a black one..." Teddy scratched his head. "And if she's seen ANYBODY, it's been a deep, dark secret. Since Dad died, she's been pretty much off the market. You don't think about that with your mother..."

"Hey, I, uh, hate to ask..." Stick blurted, eyeing his meat significantly.

"Oh! Sure..." Teddy started jacking him. "Gee, I guess that actually, you do... I mean, I don't think about her having sex with guys, but sometimes, when I jerk off..."

Around the corner, Frieda's eyes popped.

"Yeh," Stick agreed. "I think we all do that. After all, who is the chick we get closest to? My Mama is kinda chunky, like yours. Big, fat hooters. When you're lookin' at skin mags, well, they're nice, but they ain't real. Only ones I ever seen in action would be Mama's -- not that I ever seen 'em bare."

"Yeah," Teddy agreed. "Sometimes in the summer Ma goes without a bra in those thin housedresses. I mean, those things are ugly, but in the right light, they're see-through..."

"Yeah. Know what you mean. They wear them things and they don't even know."

Frieda stood rooted. Events in the next room brought surprise after surprise! Teddy had lusted after her? Omigawd!

"Ma just doesn't seem to have any interest in sex," Teddy related. "Not that I've seen. Stuff she sees on TV, she just shrugs and shakes her head." He paused, ruminating. "Come to think of it, something she said yesterday has me wondering. I guess Dad wasn't any too well hung -- like my size, without the head..."

Stick shrugged. "That might explain it. That'd be pretty puny. Maybe your Dad wasn't any too good at it, you know? Lotsa women never ever cum, I hear. Shit, if you never cum, sex ain't anything great. Mebbe the only thing your momma ever got outta sex was you!"

"That'd suck," Teddy replied, thinking about it.

"Yeh. Uh, speakin' of suckin'..."

"Greedy." Teddy grinned as he lowered his lips over Stick's length.

"Aaaahhhh! Damn, that's good!" Stick groaned. "Mebbe it wasn't so much it was black -- she probly don't have no thing for bruthahs -- but if it was the biggest one she's ever seen..."

Teddy popped up. "Maybe that's it. It's a nice enough one. If she'd only seen Dad's before..." He didn't mention his own.

"Yeh," Stick agreed. "That's probly it. Sex Ed -- at your momma's age!"

Teddy backed off with a pop. "And we're giving her the advanced course, when she hasn't had the basics! We need to be more careful..."

Stick shrugged. "Mebbe she'll wake up an' get a life! She dresses like somebody's grandmaw..."

"Hey!"

"Dude, if she was out chasin' dick, she'd be colorin' her hair, at least! She's, like, totally off the market!"

"What about YOUR ma!" Teddy pressed.

"Mama has Pop to take care of her shit -- an' he does, too! Walls are too thin at my house..." Stick replied.

Teddy giggled. "I bet THAT fueled some jerk-off sessions!"

"No shit!" Stick replied. "Now, will you PLEASE..."

"Whiner!"

"You don't want it?" Teddy started bobbing. "Thought so. Damn, you're good at that!"

"Mmmm mmm."

"Shit! Any time you wanna hum like that..."

Teddy started humming 'Home on the Range': "Mmmmmm mm mm mm mmmmmmmmmm..."

"Oh, Man! You're killin' me!"

Frieda's feet were moving; she couldn't seem to stop them. They were moving slowly, but that was to keep things quiet... 'I shouldn't be here -- this is some kind of perversion...' Heck, it was SEVERAL kinds of perversion, but the past five minutes had been just amazing... She peeked around the doorjamb.

Teddy had a handful of that monster erection that the black boy sported, and was bobbing his head over several inches above that! Hubby -- she remembered holding his length in one hand and running her thumb over the tip -- something that drove him wild! It had been better than getting all worked up and having him go nuts between her legs for about thirty seconds... After she became pregnant with Teddy, she very seldom let things go that far -- it was too high a price to pay! But she'd never thought to suck on the thing -- what was Teddy going to do with the mess it made?

From ten or twelve feet, the whole thing was simply amazing -- God, she wished she could get closer! She actually stepped through the door -- and the black boy turned and looked right at her! She froze...

"Hey, Man, mebbe we shouldn'ta run your momma off!" Stick suggested, turning his attention back to Teddy so as not to telegraph her presence.

"What?" Teddy blurted. "You want to fuck Ma, or something?"

"You miss the point, Man! She needs to learn! She can get her own dick, once she realizes she wants some. I got you, an' I got Mary -- that's plenty!" Stick assured Teddy -- and Frieda, too, back-channel. "Hey, you think she plays with herself?"

Gurk! "What?"

"Well, she ain't getting' any dick..."

"I think she's shut down. You want me to finish this?"

"Yeah."

"Then stop driving me nuts with stupid questions about Ma's sex life!" Teddy nipped Stick.

"Ow! Hey!" Stick sat up.

"Remember where that thing is when you talk about my Ma!" Teddy warned.

"Okay, okay!" Stick settled back, looked. Teddy's Ma was still standing there with that dazed look on her face... Teddy started going to town on his hard-on, and his momma was burning holes in the air, trying to see; Stick started getting that feeling that said he was gonna hit his peak. "I'm close, Man! I'm gonna blow!"

Frieda watched intently. What was Teddy going to do with that white slop? Maybe she should go get him a towel... In her daze, she forgot that she wasn't supposed to be there...

Teddy just raised a hand in acknowledgement. Stick started getting really agitated, hunching forward, waving his arms; obviously, he wanted to grab Teddy's head and poke his penis down his throat, but was restraining himself. Frieda remembered Hubby getting this excited, and what it meant...

"Yeah! Yeah Oh, shit! I'm gonna juice, man! Take it! Take it all! YEAAAAHHHH!!!!" Stick virtually hunched himself into a ball while his nuts crawled up in their sack, then he let go the first gusher, "AWWWWW JEEEZUS!"

Frieda watched the black boy lurch, amazed. Even more amazing was watching Teddy -- he was SWALLOWING that stuff! Frieda was horrified! Wouldn't that hurt her boy?

Stick clutched and jerked a half-dozen times -- just like Hubby used to when he squirted -- or 'came', as he called it -- then settled back. "That was awesome, Dude! As usual. You gotta train Mary -- she just doesn't get it!"

Teddy swallowed, turned, and collected a soda -- fortunately away from the door! Sipping, he said, "Give her a break! She doesn't know what it feels like! And she hasn't caught on that you should fuck with your mouth..."

"Yeah," Stick agreed. He was afraid to look at the door, now. Teddy's Ma might STILL be standing there, looking stupid... "She don't have a guy's perspective, I guess."

"She does fine for me," Teddy argued, "but then, I'm not normal, being so short and fat..."

"Yeh..." Stick REALLY wanted to look; did Teddy's Ma know what his cock looked like? "Well, at least she knows about fuckin'."

"Yeah," Teddy agreed. "If I wasn't so thick, I wouldn't be much of a ride at all! You're probably right about Ma -- Dad probably couldn't please her. That's sad..." Teddy shook his head. "I mean, they had sex -- I'm here. But if he just climbed on and squirted..."

"Yeh. Like a rabbit, or sumpthin. No fun for the woman..."

Frieda got out of there. Initially, it was inch by inch, but the speed slowly ramped up to the point that when she hit the back door, she was almost running! She went to her 'quiet place', a bench under a tree in the back corner of her little garden, and sat down to try to absorb everything she'd seen and heard.

First, boys -- almost EVERY boy, apparently -- lusted after their mothers at one point or another. This was a powerful temptation, given the OTHER things she'd learned...

Second, Hubby had been embarrassingly poorly equipped for sex. From the way the boys were talking, she had missed out on something thereby. Apparently, young Stick approximated the average for penile growth. Both boys had sex with the girl Mary, and she apparently found some way to enjoy it. They apparently both felt sorry for her because she had not experienced whatever it was that Mary (and perhaps some other girls of their acquaintance) had.

Third, boys masturbated -- apparently as often as the infamous Dr. Ruth insisted -- and they believed that girls did, too -- and expected that, again, she was missing out on something.

As for the thing that Teddy did for Stick, apparently that was not unusual, either -- and not just a gay thing. Obviously, Mary did it, but she lacked some understanding of the nuances. When you thought about it, it made sense that a boy would know what felt good to a boy...

Frieda was embarrassed about it, but she really, REALLY wanted a good look at Stick's... member. For some reason, just looking at it produced an odd longing... Apparently her body knew something her head didn't.

Come to think of it, her behavior during the whole episode in the living room had been compulsive, obsessive, or both. If anyone had told her that she would act like that, she would have laughed in his or her face! As it was, she had no idea how she was going to face young Stick again...

"This would be my number one choice," Mark Hansen murmured as they drove past the meticulously painted little cookie-cutter white clapboard church. "Think they're out yet?"

"Pop, what are we doing?" Dwayne asked.

"We're looking for your girlfriend and her mother -- that's what we're doing!" Mark replied.

"Why?"

"I want to see 'em. God knows whether you'll get a break from your mother, but I think I can make up my own mind..."

"She's gonna look godawful," Dwayne warned. "If she's with her mother, she'll be in a sack dress, wearing a bra that's two sizes too small and is squashing her..."

"And how do you know that?" his father asked archly.

"I've seen her in different clothes," Dwayne answered lamely.

"Son, have you seen her without clothes?"

"Pop!"

"Why won't you just tell me?"

"Because it isn't right! And YOU taught me that!"

Mark nodded. THAT was a good answer. "Hey, somebody's comin' out the side door."

Dwayne took a look; two women, one older, one younger, dressed nearly identically in shapeless dresses that extended from their necks to their ankles. Dwayne squinted. "Yeah. That's Louise. I don't know for sure about the other one..."

"Okay, pull over there."

"Why?" Dwayne did as he was asked, anyway, but couldn't see where any good was going to come of it.

"Some things you go straight at, Son."

"What is up with you today?" Helene Bryant bitched. "Why are you so slow? And I swear you're waddling or something..."

"It's nothing," Louise lied. The reality had everything to being stiff and sore as a result of her little sexual escapade -- something Mother could NOT be allowed to guess... "My pad is slipping, and it's binding me a bit..." 'THAT will kill any curiosity Mother has...'

"That's disgusting!" her mother replied, totally predictably. "Can't you do anything right?"

"Excuse me." Two men had crossed the street and now approached the women. Helene Bryant didn't know either of them from Adam, but Louise experienced shock! "Miz Bryant?"

"Yes?" Helene's voice was frigid. "How may I help you?"

"My name is Mark Hansen," the older of the pair announced, "and this is my son Dwayne."

"And?" Helene found herself wondering if she looked like a sucker. Christian charity was one thing, but... On the other hand, they didn't LOOK like panhandlers...

'Tough bitch. Bitter,' Mark assessed his opponent. The hair she had pulled back in a bun was graying and had obviously never seen dye. Frown lines were deeply etched in the face, whose natural expression appeared to be righteous anger. Apparently Dwayne was right... He flicked a glance at the younger of the pair, discovering her to be much more sweet-faced, her complexion a soft brown. She looked scared to death, but there was hope there... "I thought that we should discuss parental concerns," Mark said carefully. "You see, my son is looking for permission to date your daughter."

"What?!" Helene was rocked. "Well, he can get in line with all of the other horny little scumbags!" she snarled, recovering.

"There is no line, Mother," Louise declared, "but if there was, Dwayne would be at the front!"

Attacked from the rear, Helene spun on her daughter, examining her as if she'd suddenly sprouted two heads. Then anger surfaced, and she aimed a roundhouse slap at Louise. "How DARE you speak like that to me!"

Louise ducked -- and Mark deflected the sweeping arm. "What's this?"

"I am disciplining my daughter -- something I'll thank you not to interfere with!" Helene announced haughtily.

"It looked like an assault to me," Mark observed.

"Spare the rod, and spoil the child!" Helene quoted -- or maybe misquoted. She turned her glare on her daughter. "I suppose that you know this... person..."

"Yes, Ma'am," Louise replied carefully, "We know each other."

"And were you aware of this?"

"Well," Louise temporized, "I didn't expect his parents to make a formal request. That's nice, don't you think? Isn't that an indication that Dwayne is a nice boy?" Louise gambled shamelessly that if she could get her mother to think about it, this incident would be a positive thing...

Her mother turned her glare on Dwayne, measuring him -- and, predictably, finding him wanting. "Not necessarily. It merely proves that he possesses a certain amount of audacity." A new thought occurred. "These things don't happen without a build up -- are we closing the barn door after the horse has escaped? Were you with HIM last night instead of being with your suddenly new girlfriend? You SLUT! Have you spread your legs for him already?"

Louise hesitated -- and was lost. To be fair, the thought that flickered through her mind was that her mother would conduct a gynecological exam on her as soon as they got home, in any case -- and the evidence would be clear. But the hesitation was damning...

"You DID!" Helene screeched. "You little bitch! After all I've done for you! You disgusting little SLUT!" Helene grabbed Louise and shook her so hard her teeth rattled. Whirling, she pushed Louise into Dwayne, causing both to collapse to the sidewalk. "Take her! You've despoiled the little slut -- you can take responsibility for her! You'll find her things on the step in a cardboard box later today! I don't ever want to see the little bitch again!" With that, Helene stomped off.

Louise collapsed against Dwayne and began to cry; Dwayne immediately took up the gauntlet, comforting her, hugging her. "There, there, Honey. She'll cool down and this will blow over. It'll be all right..."

Mark stood there, watching the whole mess, amazed. Helene Bryant stomped around the corner, never looking back, while Dwayne cuddled her daughter and absorbed her tears. "If this isn't the damnedest thing..."

"I knew that this was going to happen," Louise sniffled. "There really wasn't ever any other ending; Mother was never going to let me see a boy. But I'd hoped that we would get farther, first..."

"Do people in your religion HAVE children?" Mark asked Louise.

"Only hypocrites, in Mother's opinion," Louise replied. "And HER religion isn't necessarily what comes from the pulpit -- although I could stand to do without THAT, too!" She sniffled a bit. "I'm really sorry about this -- I'll run along, now." She made to get up.

"And go where?" Dwayne asked, clutching her to him, refusing to allow her to stand. "She's serious, isn't she?"

"Well, yeah," Louise agreed. "I'm probably out of the house for a couple of days, at least. And she'll probably break half of my stuff while she packs it..." She pushed her bangs back. "I'll go to church, and they'll put me up for a while..."

"No, you won't, either!" Dwayne declared. "Your mother passed responsibility for you to me -- and I'm good with that!" He swung eyes like shotgun barrels on his father. "Pop?"

Mark was between a rock and a hard place -- he'd triggered the confrontation. Still, there was an item to be clarified... "You two have had sex?"

"Yes." The answer was unanimous, but Louise carried it forward, "It was my fault, really -- I made it very clear this morning that I wanted it. It was my first time -- Mother is probably going to hit the roof again when she finds my bedclothes in the washer. But if I'd lied, it wouldn't have lasted any longer than it took to get home, because Mother would have insisted on checking me..."

Mark shook his head. "That's a crock... She'd have really checked to see if you were still, ummm...?"

"Yessir. I probably wouldn't have made it that far, come to think of it. She was already ragging on me for waddling, and she's not stupid." Louise flashed a glance at Dwayne. "I'm a little sore..."

Dwayne blushed. Mark rubbed his forehead. "Get in the truck."

"Yessir." Dwayne released Louise and she was up like a shot, lifting her skirts clear of a pair of athletic calves so she could run to the pickup.

Mark watched her. "Your mother is gonna kill us both..." He shook his head. "You'll be DAMN sure responsible for her as far as SHE's concerned!"

Dwayne smiled crookedly. "Yeah."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Go get in the damned truck!" Dwayne walked to the truck and got in the driver's side; Mark eyed the pair as he circled around front. As soon as Dwayne was settled, Louise plastered herself to him and started glowing. "Jeezus." This could get complicated. What if they turned out to not be a couple? Well, it didn't seem likely at the moment... He got in. "Let's go. Better swing by her house." Louise's smile dimmed quite a bit at that...

Dwayne did as he was told, but it was obviously a wasted effort. They parked down the block and watched Helene arrive -- and things started flying out the front door onto the porch almost immediately. Mark just could not believe that anyone could be so vicious! "Is she like this all the time?"

"Well..." Louise hedged. "Not ALL the time... I've slept in the cellar a few times, though..."

Mark eyed her. "Locked in?" Louise wouldn't respond -- and wouldn't meet his eyes. "Still, I figure we must've hit a hot button..."

"She's never done THIS before," Louise admitted. "But she's been getting worse and worse. Things used to be a lot better, but lately, well, it's like she's been waiting for this..."

"Self-fulfilling prophecy kind of thing?" Mark guessed.

"Yessir. Other girls in church..." Louise trailed off.

"Reading the writing on the wall, was she?"

Louise nodded. "They'd get married, or Mother would come home cackling about some scandal -- and then yell at me for a while, making threats. I've ruined her at church, when it gets out -- at least, that's how she'll feel about it..." She nerved herself, "I'll go talk to her -- maybe she'll settle down..."

"We'll wait," Dwayne announced, locking eyes with his father.

Mark chose not to argue; he got out and held the door while Louise worked her way past him. Then he climbed back in and settled in to wait. "Sounds like she catches quite a bit at home."

"Yeah." It could have been exaggeration -- but the evidence said otherwise. "She's pretty meek; she brings out the protective instinct in me."

Mark grunted. "Didn't know you had one."

"Me either."

Louise trudged up the hill like she was headed for a gibbet; Mother was unlikely to cool down any time soon, given her recent behavior. But she needed to try, for Dwayne and for his nice father... The porch was littered with all kinds of things; stuffed animals seemed to be the only items that were surviving being thrown out the door, which was propped wide open. Louise ducked as her alarm clock whizzed by. Apparently, it was the first installment of an armload; her mother approached the door, ranting and raving, caught sight of Louise and tossed the rest onto the porch. "What do YOU want?"

"Mother, it isn't that bad..."

"It's WORSE! How long have I been trying to instill some morality in you? Answer me that!" She cocked her head suspiciously, "Where are your bedclothes?"

"In the wash..."

Helene went absolutely purple. "Under MY OWN ROOF! You shameless SLUT! Get out of my sight! Take this crap and LEAVE!"

"Mother, I can't go anywhere -- there aren't any clothes here..." Clothing was conspicuous by its absence on the trash heap."

"SLUTS don't WEAR clothes!" Helene screeched. "In fact, sluts shouldn't have ANY clothes!" Quick as a rattlesnake, Helene whipped out a hand and snatched at the bodice of Louise's baggy dress, shredding it. Louise lurched backward and Helene chased her out into the yard, slapping at her. "Get out of my sight! Come back after dark for your things, like the low-life you are! I don't want to ever see you again!"

Louise ran, clutching her ripped dress. Helene picked up the broken alarm clock, hurled it after her, and returned to the house, slamming the front door behind her.

"Holy shit!" Dwayne exclaimed.

"Damn!" Mark had never seen anything like the scene that unfolded up the block in his life! "That woman's insane!" Louise was pelting down the block, crying her eyes out and clutching her torn dress. "Go get her -- I'll drive!" He got out and circled the truck.

Dwayne had already hit the pavement, running. He collected Louise, who ran smack into him, blinded by her tears, and cuddled her to him. Louise burrowed in and Dwayne spent the next couple of minutes slowly moving her toward the truck while cuddling her and rubbing her back, waiting for the worst of her crying to subside. Slowly, things settled back to a sniffle and she became more pliant. "Come on, let's go," Dwayne directed, releasing her but directing her up into the cab. Louise turned and stumbled aboard obediently, then reversed herself and glued herself to Dwayne as he got in.

Draper nudged Nate on his way back to the truck. "Hey, don't those two look familiar?" There was a pair of guys unloading another truck, two vehicles down the loading dock.

"Yeh." Nate squinted. "Ain't that the Weasel? And Tank McGovern? What the Hell are THEY doin' unloadin' a truck at a supermarket?" Tank and the Weasel were low-end dope dealers whose area of operations fringed on Nate and Draper's neighborhood; they didn't normally stoop to actual work...

"Weird. Who they unloadin'?" Draper took a look. "Staffordshire Farms..."

"Competition, I think," Nate murmured. He wandered over to Roland. "Ain't Staffordshire the competition?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"We're noticin' somethin' weird..."

"Other than the fact that their crap gets four times the shelf space that ours does?" Roland grunted.

"Yeah. Maybe. Be right back." Nate wandered over to where the other truck was being unloaded and pretended to be stacking things. Tank and the Weasel were busily unloading under the watchful eye of the driver. After a couple of minutes, the driver grunted, "We're about done. Box thirteen." Weasel collected the box -- but didn't stack it with the others. Instead, he handed the driver a wad of cash, and he and Tank left, carrying the box. The driver took the cash, peeled a few bills off the roll, and approached the warehouse manager, handing him the peeled off bills. "Well, what do ya know..." Nate mused.

Roland was waiting; they were done, having less to unload. "Le's git outta here," he grunted.

"Can we follow the Staffordshire truck?" Nate asked.

"Why?" Roland wanted to know. "Mos' places don' want us to arrive together..."

"There's something up with it, Man. Money changing hands. Dope dealers unloading trucks."

"No shit?" Roland's eyebrows went up.

"Yep."

"Awright. Let's get to their next stop first..." Roland signaled and changed direction.

Mark Hansen hit his front door, moving quickly. "Donna!"

"Yes?" Donna was still pissed off from the earlier incident, and she allowed it to show.

Mark frowned. "Put on your company face -- you get your wish." Turning, he waved Dwayne and a girl through the door. "This is Louise. Get used to her -- she might be hanging out here for a while. REBECCA!!!!"

Donna stood there gawking at the girl holding the top of her frumpy dress together. "Uhhh..." Dwayne was glaring at her over the girl's shoulder. "Hello..."

There was a series of thumps and Becky appeared at the top of the stairs. "Pop?"

"Louise, here, has a problem with her dress. You two are at least sort of close in size; see if you can help her..." Mark directed.

"Uh, sure..." Becky stood blinking. "Hi, Louise. C'mon up to my room..." 'What the fuck?'

Louise directed a fearful glance at Dwayne, who nodded. "She won't bite -- but don't believe any gossip she tells you." He directed a glare at his sister.

Louise nodded and moved to the stairs. Becky waited until she got to the top, then turned, waving her to follow. "What happened to you?" she asked as they moved out of earshot.

Donna turned to Mark. "What DID happen? Who tore her dress?"

"You'd never believe it," Mark shook his head. "I wouldn't have, but I saw it..." He sighed. "Dwayne said her mother was Hell on Wheels -- I didn't really believe it, and I wanted to see for myself. Turns out he under-represented her. I figured I'd get her to look on Dwayne favorably by making a request on his behalf -- come to find out males of any stripe just weren't welcome. Things went to Hell in a hand basket in no time; the woman started jumping to conclusions -- and unfortunately, they were the correct ones." Mark arched an eyebrow at his son. "Basically, she disowned the girl, right then and there. We tried to take her home, and the woman threw stuff at her, tried to beat her and ripped her dress."

"My God!" Donna exclaimed. She turned on Dwayne. "See what this kind of thing breeds?"

"Hold on!" Mark interceded. "In the FIRST place, Louise made it clear that she invited Dwayne, specifically, to do what he did." He looked at his son. "Maybe you'd better tell your mother just exactly what that was..."

Dwayne sucked in a deep breath. "Louise um, presented me her virginity."

"She WHAT? And you took it?" Donna was nonplussed.

"Look, I could spend two weeks explaining myself, but it boils down to the fact that I told her that I was not going there until and unless she basically offered me a printed invitation. I won't go into details, but it was engraved in gold, not just printed... She offered me her most precious gift -- and I accepted it. To do anything less..."

"I'll believe that smoke screen when I hear it from HER!" Donna said flatly.

Mark grinned. "I already have!" He sobered. "I recommend that you pay some attention to how your son just phrased his response. If you offered a boy your virginity and he passed on it, how would you feel? And would you expect to actually HAVE a relationship afterward?"

"She TOLD you that?"

"Absolutely. I spent an hour trying to get Dwayne to admit to something -- but HE doesn't kiss and tell! On the other hand, she admitted responsibility right off, and said that she asked for it."

"When?"

"This morning. Our instincts were good." Mark grunted.

"So, now we have..." Donna began.

"I'm not sure what YOU have, but I have a girlfriend -- and I'm responsible for her welfare!" Dwayne piped up.

"Something you're not prepared to handle!" Donna shot back at her son. "WE have a houseguest -- for a few days, at least." Turning to her husband, she added, "I don't suppose this is going to blow over any time soon?"

Mark shook his head. "You should have seen it. The woman should be put away, in my opinion!" He shrugged. "I guess we'll see..."

Donna sighed. "Would this have happened if you hadn't horned in?"

"You caused THAT!" Mark replied, "but, no, probably not. They'd have gone on sneaking around for a while, at least. The time bomb was there, but I set it off."

Upstairs, Becky was questioning Louise, "Who tore your dress?"

"My mother." Louise replied shortly.

"Well, get out of it, and I'll see what I can do to help..." Becky replied. "Why did she do that?"

"I made her very angry." There was a pause while Louise worked her way out of the dress, which left her in a half-slip, a bra, panties, ankle socks and her flats.

"Jeez, doesn't that hurt?" Becky gasped. Louise was obviously being squashed by her bra...

"You get used to it -- but it isn't fun." Louise dimpled. "Your brother asked me the exact same question."

"Why don't you let 'em out?"

"Can I? I don't want to embarrass anyone..."

"Hey, no problem, really. It's just us girls..." 'Oops! What if she's a dyke?' Becky stepped around behind Louise and undid the hooks. "That's ridiculous! Why don't you buy stuff that's the right size?"

"My mother wants me... deemphasized," Louise related, embarrassed. She turned around.

"Holy shit! No wonder!" Becky blurted. "If my brother gets an eye on those..." She picked up on Louise's Mona Lisa smile. "Oho!"

"Uh huh..."

"Wow! They're nicer than mine. Who'd have thought..."

"Yeah." The monosyllable contained a world of rejections.

"Okay, what do you want to wear? Maybe you ought to shuck out of that slip and the shoes and socks..." 'Gawd, those are ugly shoes!'

"Okay." That left Louise in a gawdawful pair of 'granny panties' -- but Becky could see clearly that she'd been taken in by the awkward outfits that Louise regularly wore.

"Jeez, Louise! You're a stone fox! Why do you wear that awful crap?"

"My mother wanted me, um, off the market."

"That sucks! How do you meet boys?"

"I didn't. Until Dwayne."

Becky picked up the rag that had been a dress, sort of. "So what happened? Why would your mom do this to you?"

"That's the least of it," Louise sighed. "I've been kicked out of the house!"

"What on Earth did you do?"

"I had sex with Dwayne."

"Holy shit!" Becky took off up the hall.

"Let's see if we can put her in with Becky..." Donna suggested.

"They've had sex!" Becky shrieked from the top of the stairs.

Dwayne flinched. His mother rolled her eyes. "Thank you. We knew that. Now go do what I told you."

"I can't do too much for her," Becky replied. "She's at least an eight. And she needs a better bra -- hers is about two cup sizes short." She turned on her brother. "Big brother is a wolf! There is a stone fox under that granny garb! How did you sniff her out?"

Dwayne rubbed his forehead. "Thanks again, Sis. I had help. From her -- and a couple of others."

"You make it sound like SHE wants YOU!" Becky grimaced. "Why on Earth would SHE want YOU?"

Dwayne gave in to exasperation. "Lend her some sweats or something so she can come back downstairs, willya?"

"No problem, Wolf Man!" Becky cackled and sped back up the hall.

"Why did you DO that?" Louise demanded.

"Are you kidding?" Becky cackled. "That stuff is a gift from the gods! Anyway, Dwayne suggested sweats or something..." Becky's eyes flashed. "Hey, ever wear a crop top? With those..." She grinned and started digging in drawers. "What I can't understand is why you'd have sex with Dwayne! EWWW!"

Louise smiled. "I guess little sisters aren't really equipped to appreciate some of their big brother's better qualities. It was wonderful, actually. And now that I'm no longer a virgin, I expect the next time to be even better!"

Becky's eyes popped and her jaw dropped, "No longer a..." She turned for the door.

Louise grabbed her arm, "They know THAT, too!"

"Oh," Becky sighed. "Bummer."

"You two have real feud going!" Louise observed, slipping into the blouse.

"Yeah. Right now, I'm up on points..." Becky grinned. "Here, put these on." She fished out a pair of red shorts. "Shuck out of the panties -- they won't fit underneath." She turned to Louise and blinked. "Jeezus! You don't shave that briar patch? Clip it or something?"

"Uh, no..." Louise colored.

"What did Dwayne say?"

"He likes it."

"Another surprise! Well, get dressed..."

"Okay," Donna announced. "For now, Louise stays with Becky -- and YOU, Young Man, will sleep downstairs on the couch!"

"What?" Dwayne exclaimed. "Why?"

"Do you think I'm going to let you sleep upstairs -- right next door to her? Obviously, you have no self-restraint..."

"I don't get it," Dwayne replied. "I've been hanging here for eighteen years, with you and Becky, and I don't remember doing anything too objectionable -- but suddenly, I have fangs, or something! Besides, Louise is... different. She's... important to me. You act like I rushed out and took advantage of her -- that I was just looking to get laid! Well, it just didn't..." Something caught his eye; he looked up and his eyes widened. More important, his face lit up!

Donna looked back over her shoulder. At the head of the stairs stood Louise, in a top that wasn't much above and barely extended below her breasts, exposing a muscular golden brown midriff over a pair of red shorts that were too tight for her muscular thighs. Donna took one look and screeched "Rebecca!!!!"

"Yes?" Becky's voice was innocence personified -- but her face, appearing behind Louise, was a mask of unholy glee.

"Get her into something with a bit more coverage, Young Lady!"

"Oh, all right!" Becky tugged on Louise's arm. "C'mon. Did you SEE his FACE?" She cackled happily. "What a picture!"

Below, Mark's attention had been collected when Dwayne's was. 'Holy shit! A bod like that -- and muscles?' "Swimming?" he murmured to Dwayne.

"Field hockey."

"Damn."

"Boys!" Donna was glaring.

"Here, put this on..." Becky handed Louise a purple sweatsuit. "This should hold you." She giggled. "Big brother lit up like a Christmas tree!"

Louise, halfway into the sweatpants, smiled fondly. "Yes..."

"Oh, shit! You're really into the big dork, aren't you?"

"Uh huh."

"Pitiful." Becky shook her head. "Come on."

"There you are!" Mark interrupted Donna's latest tirade over the men's reaction to Louise's appearance. "Why don't the three of you go in the other room and watch some TV. Your mother and I have to make some plans."

Becky led off; Louise collected Dwayne's hand and the couple followed. "How long are we going to have to support this?" Donna asked.

"I don't know. It's an explosive combination. They're NOT going to stay apart," Mark pointed out.

"Don't I know it! Did you see his face?" Donna asked.

"Did you see hers?" Mark replied.

Irma Nally looked around carefully before getting out of her car. 'Nasty looking neighborhood...' It was no surprise, given the kind of people who lived here... It had taken some thought and planning to collect the black boy's telephone number and link it to an address, but here she was... In the door and up the stairs, to the sound of some raucous and vulgar rap music, to apartment 4A.

There was a knock at the door. Grumbling, Thurnock Williams got up from his recliner in front of the round ball game and threw open the door -- and blinked in surprise. 'Big fuckin' fat white bitch...' "Rose! Somebody at the door for ya!"

But then the stupid bitch started talking... "Mr. Williams? Are you the Mr. Williams with a son named Stick? Is that really his name? Stick?"

"It ain't -- but you ain't told me why I should tell you what it IS yet!" Pop grunted. "What're you sellin'?"

The fat bitch blinked. "Why nothing. I've come to appeal to your better nature."

"What if I ain't got one? Who the fuck are you, anyway?" By then, Rose was standing there.

The fat bitch looked unsurprised. "My name is Irma Nally. Your son, Stick, is seeing my daughter. May I come in?"

Against his better judgment, Pop Williams backed up. The fat bitch came in, looked around distastefully, and settled herself on the couch. This didn't fly with Pop -- Rose kept a clean house, what there was of it. "Okay. So. What you want with me?"

"I want you to take steps to prevent your son from seeing my daughter!" Irma announced. "They're having sex, you know..."

Pop squinched up his face, thinking. "This'd be Mary, right? Why? She got AIDS or somethin'? Why should I mix in shit if she can't keep her legs closed 'round my boy?"

'This isn't going well,' Irma thought. 'I shouldn't be surprised, I guess.' Disgust slipped out again before she masked her features. "I would think that you would want your son looking for women within your... culture. And I would prefer that Mary look for boys within hers..."

"We talkin' culture or race, here?" Pop bridled. "You fill your young'uns with white racist shit an' I'm s'posed to fill mine wit' black racist shit? Is that it?"

"Well, no," Irma lied. "Obviously, Mary has no objection to sex with a black boy -- but I do! I don't think it's right!"

"An' why not?" Pop countered. "She fucks around anyway, don't she? That's what I hear!"

Irma grimaced. "Given her... issues, I encouraged her to be a bit more open in order to attract boyfriends -- or I looked the other way, at least -- but this is going too far! Wild parties with TWO boys...!"

"This that Ted? You talk to his folks, too?"

"Indeed I did!" Irma confirmed. "She was a bit easier to find than you were... If it was just Teddy, things might be different, but I can't have my daughter cavorting with blacks!"

"So it's okay she fucks around wit' pinky white boys?" Pop countered. What I hear, this Ted ain't got enough dick to keep her happy! Mebbe she should drop HIM!"

"Absolutely not!" Irma got red in the face. "My daughter will NOT spend her life as a milk cow for some lazy black in a squalid project like this one! I won't have her captive, spreading herself for his friends with loose morals! I just won't!"

"Bitch, you got serious balls comin' in here an' talkin' shit like that to me an' my wife! You better git your ass outta here, before I slap it around some for ya!" Pop ranted.

"Fine!" Irma replied coldly, rising. "But while you're at it, maybe you should think about what those two boys are doing? You know, I was pretty sure that Teddy's queer -- and I don't think I've actually SEEN Stick actually having sex with Mary..."

"What?" Pop flipped. "You sit your ass down! NOW we got somethin' to talk about! Rose, gimme the phone!"

"Hullo?" Stick's phone rang, and he picked it up. Teddy muted the TV.

"Boy? Where the fuck are ya? Are ya with that pinky white boy you're puttin' the horns on?"

"Pop? Uh, yeah..."

"Have him drag your ass home. Mebbe he oughta bring his folks, too!"

"What's up, Pop?"

"I got this big fat white bitch sittin' here in my livin' room, insultin' the fuck outta me an' your mother. Claims she's your cunt's mama. That cunt as big as this one?"

"No, Pop. Not quite...."

"Well, she's givin' me shit about how I should get in the way 'cause the little slut cain't keep her legs closed around black dick," Pop continued. "But now she's sayin' other shit -- shit I wanna hear answers for, from you an' pinky boy Ted."

Stick looked to the skies for help, but didn't see any. "Okay, Pop. We're comin'."

"While you're at it, call your cunt an' have her over, too -- and have her bring her old man; I wanna see what he says about how this bitch acts!"

'Shit!' "Okay, Pop. I'll call her."

"You git her ass here, if ya have to roll it up the street!" Pop hung up.

"You bastard!" Irma screeched.

"I know botha my folks, thank you!" Pop replied smugly.

"That'd make you the only one on your block!" Irma made to rise again.

Pop pushed her back down onto the saggy couch. "Sit yer ass down! You started this -- you're gonna hang out for the whole damn thing -- including commercials!"

"You can't hold me here!"

"Fuckin' breaking and entering, assault -- shit, I can call the cops and have 'em haul your ass to jail! An' if real shit ain't good enough, I'll make up some!" Turning to his wife, he added, "Take them two yammerheads to one o' your girlfriends for a while. This is adult shit."

"Are you sure, Baby?" Rose eyed the white woman.

"I'm sure. Git."

Stick turned to Teddy. "We got trouble. Mary's Mama showed up at my house, talkin' shit. Now Pop is on a rampage. We got to get over there." He paused a moment. "Uh, look -- he asked for you in particular -- and your Ma..."

Teddy blew out a breath. "Uh oh. I'll go get Ma."

Stick got on the phone. "Mary?"

"Stick?"

"We got trouble. Do you know where your mama is?"

"Oh, no!"

"Oh, YES! She's pissed Pop off bad -- he wants us all over there -- including you and your Pop..."

"Okay. I'll meet you there."

"Don't go in 'til we get there -- I got Ted and his mama with me!"

"Okay, Hon. See you there!"