Wednesday Morning

The silent alarm on my PDA definitely went off too early. Oh, it went off at five o'clock all right; my body just wasn't ready to be disturbed at that hour and it complained bitterly. Nevertheless I sat up, stood up, twisted the knot out of my back, and quietly pushed myself toward the bathroom. On the way I grabbed my roll of maps. Nadia was still asleep.

First I drank some water, then splashed some on my face, then dampened a cloth and rubbed it in. That felt better. After a few minutes on the toilet, I was good to go. Carefully and quietly I tiptoed down the hall, down the stairs, and out to the driveway where Nadia sat waiting in the jeep.

"Did you take all your maps?" I asked Nadia.

"Yeah, they're right here," Nadia indicated. I threw my roll next to hers, covered them so they wouldn't blow away, and told my PDA to start the jeep. Seconds later we were on our way.

"What about Dan? Did he leave anything behind?" I asked.

"Yeah, he did, but I got it," Nadia assured me. "There's something going on with him and Crystal, you know."

"Yeah, I saw that too. Whose idea was it?"

"Oh, Dan's, I'm sure. Crystal doesn't go after guys. She's got enough coming after her."

"She's been going after Adam," I pointed out.

"Even there, she's settling for leftovers," Nadia observed.

"You see 'em doin' anything?"

"Crystal sucked him off just before they left. I think she likes his PA."

"She did that with you sitting there?"

"Yeah. She was getting bored. Dan was getting bored. I think she just needed a quick wake-me-up," Nadia explained.

"That's fine for Dan, but what about Crystal?"

"I think they stopped somewhere on the way home. She takes guys to the Jump and Pump sometimes, you know. Either there or the Slip and Slide."

"That place is a dive. Why would she go there?"

"Well, you gotta remember her parents still want her to wear clothes all the time. I guess that means no boyfriends at home, either," Nadia speculated.

"Life is tough all over," I observed. "What about Teah? You think she knows?"

"She's probably too busy pissing in the bushes to notice. I'm not sure she cares. She's been making a lot of new friends lately."

"From Barbie doll to wet, messy, and toilet-free, all in two weeks, eh? Who'd a thunk it?"

"She still starts the day looking like Barbie," Nadia pointed out. "And she doesn't let herself get smelly."

"Halleluiah for small favors," I remarked.

There wasn't much traffic, of course, so driving out to the property took only forty-five minutes. The road was two lanes all the way and none of the filling stations, diners, and other roadside businesses were open. The air was a bit chilly but turning the heater on full blast helped. When you don't wear clothes, you learn to expect an occasional chill and deal with it.

The chasm itself wasn't visible from the road. We followed a fence for a mile or two, and then found an opening where the garbage trucks used to enter. At least, it was an opening after we got done looking at it.

If anything, the landscape was even more irregular than I expected. There were fields of hard clay molded into odd contours by runoff, fields of large boulders, and scattered rock formations up to twenty or twenty-five feet high. There wasn't much vegetation, just a few cactuses and creosote bushes. Either the ground was too hard or the area didn't get enough rain. The access road, such as it was, snaked around various obstructions.

The chasm area itself was fantastic. It was like a large shallow bowl, half to three-quarters of a mile across, with a total drop of about two hundred feet to the bottom. The chasm itself cut across the bowl like a giant crack in the earth, a couple of feet wide in most places. The whole area was dry that day but water had apparently flowed through the chasm floor, perhaps depending on the season. Over the years, this had apparently sculpted the whole area.

"This is awesome," Nadia said quietly. "It's like a gigantic, natural amphitheater or arena." She could have screamed her head off and no one else would have heard, but something about the place inspired reverence. Or maybe it was the quiet -- quiet so intense that there was no need to speak up.

The aerial photos had shown various roads and passages running along or across the bowl. I followed a couple of them as far as they went and felt like I was driving on the moon for the first time. From time to time we'd encounter an obstacle that made us turn back, but I knew most of them could be overcome with a little grading or a prefab bridge. Occasionally, we snapped pictures with our PDAs.

At a quarter to seven I started heading out of the bowl. Five minutes later we were on a rise overlooking the whole area. There, I opened another map and showed it to Nadia.

"Entry road, parking, start/finish, grandstands, shops and vendors, restaurant row, musical stage, gasoline alley, sanitary area," I called out, pointing to the respective areas. "At least, that's the way I see it today. I'm sure we'll to make lots of adjustments along the way."

"People could sit here and see the whole race, couldn't they?" Nadia observed. "Especially if they had binoculars."

"Yeah, or video feeds," I pointed out. "We could probably charge by the hour for video feeds."

I hated to go and so did Nadia. There were a thousand spots to explore, ten thousand surprises to discover, a million plans to make. Time, however, was getting short. We stopped at the next flat spot we passed, took a pee Teah-style, and hit the road back to town. Along the way we stopped at a diner called The Griddle of Nowhere and bought eggs Florentine with orange and dill sauce, sausage and feta strata, marzipan spongata, and cappuccino to go. It was excellent.

By eight we were safely back at the world-famous (not) Bald Mountain High School parking lot. Nadia left to find Dan. I was dirty, stinky, and food-spattered, but I was also meeting Adam at the showers. On the way I stashed the maps in my locker.

Somehow I got to the showers a few seconds before the swim team. Reveling in my good fortune, I turned on one of the nozzles and began rinsing off the dust. Then Adam arrived and began soaping my front. Then Ethan Beahmerri began soaping my back! Then Paul Aquino began soaping my left side and Max Walser my right! Then there were four more swimmers scrubbing me as well. Then eight more! Then the whole team!

For a moment I panicked. As strong as I was, I couldn't fight off all those guys. Was this really going to be it? An organized gang rape? But then Adam drew himself closer to me, kissed me on the neck and told me it was OK.

Trusting him just then wasn't easy. Somehow, though, I convinced myself that Adam was in charge, or at least knew what was happening. The more I relaxed, the more I sensed the water falling all around me, soaking my skin, falling in rivulets down to the floor. Soapy, slippery male bodies slithered against me on all sides. Hands, legs, arms, chests, abs, and cocks caressed every part of my body. Bodies were on bodies, all wet, all soapy, all slippery, but there was no way of telling who was rubbing what against whom. Too much was happening too fast. I tried going limp and still didn't fall down.

Then Adam was on me, faster and more furiously than ever. He kissed my neck, squeezed the small of my back, and massaged my left nipple all at once. Then, incredibly, he whispered a single word in my ear: "Relax."

All at once two guys, four guys, six guys (who knew?) lifted my thighs and held me open for Adam. I had no control over the situation. I was terrified. They could have done this with anyone standing on front of me! But it was Adam; it was Adam. And slowly, tenderly he entered me. I felt him in my pussy; I felt him against my abs; I felt him against my tits. His and fifty other hands massaged my shoulders, my sides, my legs, my butt. Water fell everywhere, dripped everywhere. Adam worked himself in and out, around and around, up and down. I felt looser and wetter than I'd ever been.

On and on Adam worked his ever-hard cock inside me, stretching, sliding, slithering, slinking. Then he grabbed my butt, pushed my mons against the front of his hips, and began to grind.

I couldn't believe what was happening. I had no control. Every cell in my brain wanted to fight back, get loose, run away. I tensed, pussy and all, and that was enough to make Adam cum. I felt his cock jerk in me over and over again, and I felt his thick hot fluid oozing out of me, across my asshole, and onto the floor. Then I trembled and Adam whispered quietly in my ear, "Trust me. Relax."

So once again I did. Despite reservations, I closed my eyes, shut out the male bodies and the water and the pandemonium all around me, and paid attention only to my clit. Harder and harder Adam pressed himself against me. On and on he rotated, around and around his cock moved within my pussy. Then my shoulders quivered, my tits and side tingled, my thighs and even my toes prickled, one wave after another. The water and the wet soapy bodies and the room full of hands and mouths and cocks surged and surged around me. My pussy lips swelled, and my vag, and my clit. The heat grew and grew, and I began to sweat. Would they drop me, I suddenly wondered? Was I too slippery? Then Adam drew me even closer than before, told me once again to relax, opened his mouth, and kissed me. Our tongues found each other and began a furious tango.

Then my clit took charge. It was six strokes away, then three, two, and one. Then it hit. For a brief second it was my whole being, then it pulsed through my abs and thighs, my breasts and calves, and my shoulders and toes. Then again. And again.

"Uuuuuu-uh! Oh! Oh yes! Oooh shit! Aaaaagh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" I screamed, over and over again. I could hear it echo around the shower room walls but that seemed a thousand miles away. On and on Adam worked against my mound. On and on the waves of sensation pulsed. I was helpless. I was ecstatic. It was never going to end and then it finally did. I went limp, and then heard Adam's voice telling the others it was over. Then, as my toes touched solid ground, I heard applause!

"Yo, Vivian," came two dozen voices all around me. "Go for it! Hot chick! Get animal! What a babe! Let it be! All out! What's your number?" they all shouted, too fast for me to catch it all. Then they all crouched down, rose as a group, thrust up their fists, and shouted, "Go-oo-oo-OO-OH Vivian! Go-oo-oo-OO-OH Bald Mountain! Yeah!"

I opened my eyes and there was Adam. "What the hell was that?" I asked.

"You've been swarmed in the shower," he replied, as if that explained anything.

"Why?"

"I thought it would be a surprise," he stated.

"A nice quiet talk with no interruptions would have been better," I told him.

"I thought we weren't supposed to be exclusive," he explained. "Anyway, I owed you a favor for that scene yesterday on the big whoop." The rest of the swim team, by then, was drying, dressing, or heading off to class.

"This is a control issue, isn't it?" I asked.

"Is it?" he replied. "Or is it an issue of ground rules, or of trust?"

"Let's call it ground rules for now," I decided. "Look, we need to talk. Somewhere quiet and private, where we won't be interrupted."

"How about this evening?" Adam suggested.

"I dunno. I might have to work late. Plus, I don't want to wait that long. How about during lunch?"

"All right. Meet me right over there by the locker room door. We can find an empty office or a dark corner or something. Look, you better get cleaned up. It's eight twenty-nine."

Yikes! There I was, still sweaty and sloppy, and I don't think all the slop was from Adam. I washed and rinsed as fast as I could, then Adam dried me and I headed off to Honors Seminar. I was a minute late but Maharishi threw me a glance that meant she wouldn't mark me tardy. Phew.

Wednesday at School

Period 1 - Honors Seminar

"Good morning, students and staff," Holloway was just beginning. "This morning we have another student who's in The Program and who'd like to present some information about himself. As with Dee, who spoke yesterday, I'm hoping this will cut down on repetitive questions and answers that waste time for everyone. Go ahead, Ben."

"Uh, hi, my name is Ben Daire. A lot of you know me," he began. "Now that I'm in The Program, I guess everybody knows that I have two cocks. At least, everyone keeps asking me about it. So, like Ms. Holloway said, I have a list of frequently asked questions.

"First, how did this happen? No, I wasn't born this way. Until about a year ago, I had one cock, just like any other guy. Then it was time for my injection and the nanobot company ran a routine DNA analysis.

"The nanobot company was Progressive Genetics. That's another common question.

"Well, everybody knows the nanobot companies analyze DNA. That's how they detect susceptibility to various diseases and formulate the injections. But they also use those results to search for cures, and for ways to create enhancements.

"In my case, they found that I have a recessive trait that favors diphallic terata. That's the medical term for having two penises. Progressive Genetics was looking for that trait because they though they could make a product out of it."

"Pardon me, Ben," interrupted Holloway. "Progressive Genetics wanted to make double penises a standard option that anyone could order as part of their injection? Is that right"

"Uh, yeah, and they still do. But only one guy in a thousand has the recessive trait. And even among those guys, the nanobot treatment worked only one percent of the time.

"To improve those odds, they needed to keep testing. So they offered me $5,000 to try it, plus some new computers and other stuff. I'd never thought about having two cocks, and I didn't really want two cocks. But I figured there was a ninety-nine percent chance of nothing happening, so I took the money and they shot me with their nanobots.

"As to why it worked for me and not for ninety-nine other guys, I really have no idea. I guess I'm just lucky, or unlucky, or whatever. They keep wanting me to come in for blood tests and physical exams and stuff, and I have to do it.

"So, next question: Does it still only work for one guy in a hundred thousand? No, I guess the odds are about one in two or three thousand now. It's still considered experimental, though. They have to pick you as a research subject.

"How did they grow? My original penis and prostate split in half. Yeah, that was very weird.

"How do they work? For sex, they work independently. My left ball feeds my left prostate and my left cock. My right ball feeds my right prostate and my right cock. But because they share a common blood supply, they get aroused or soft at about the same time.

"I still have one urinary bladder. When I piss, it comes out of both cocks at once.

"How does it feel? That's hard to explain. It's like the difference between someone holding one of your hands and holding both of them.

"Do I like having two cocks? Not really. A lot of girls seem to like them, and I get lots of sex because of them. But I still feel like a freak.

"Are there any problems with having two cocks? Well, being a freak: That's one. Another is that I had to stop wearing pants. No matter how I stood or sat, I kept smashing one side or the other. That's why I switched to wearing kilts last week."

"How has being in The Program affected you?" Holloway asked.

"It's been a hassle," Ben explained. "Everywhere I go there's a crowd of people who insist on looking at 'em and touching 'em and asking questions about 'em. That gets old real fast. I guess it's good that everybody knows, though. I used to get paranoid about someone finding out."

"Ben, thank you for sharing your information and experiences," said Holloway. "If anyone else would like to share experiences or discuss problems related to The Program, don't forget the daily support group after school. It's in the drama shop.

"That's all for this morning," Holloway concluded. "Have an enjoyable and productive day."

After that Maharishi called on Petunia Pei and Yulan Yuan to present their report comparing recent social progress in three African countries. The report was interesting in its way, but I thought they spent too much time presenting facts and not enough on comparison and analysis. Kenya, for example, had emphasized tourism and high-tech industry. This brought in a lot of outside money but placed it in the hands of a few people. Tanganyika had concentrated on agriculture and infrastructure, which had more direct benefits to the general population. Tanganyika, however, had greater social unrest. Why was that?

Maybe I wasn't paying enough attention. I was still pretty frazzled from being swarmed in the athletic showers, and it just felt good to lean against Pietre's shoulder and relax. He was just so non-assertive, you know? Like, I'm sure he noticed I was wet in places -- water wet, that is, from showering -- but he never asked about it. I just relaxed and held his neck and, uh, leg.

Petunia and Yulan were back to their schoolgirl outfits, except that their plaid pleated skirts were probably the shortest on record. They were more like belts with ruffles. I'm sure Pietre noticed that too but honestly, he mostly watched their eyes.

Period 2 - Communications

When the bell rang I got untangled from Pietre and told him so long until third period. Petunia, Yulan, and Ben left together for second period Physics. And I do mean together.

Once the room was empty I called the hospital about Aunt Marjorie. The receptionist said Marjorie was unavailable and not accepting calls, so I asked for the nurse's station. The nurse confirmed Marjorie's condition, said she wasn't accepting visitors either, and estimated she'd be in the hospital a couple more days at least.

When I got to the Communications classroom Adam was busy satisfying Reasonable Requests in the hall. Most of it seemed to be lookie-feelie stuff and he didn't seem terribly upset about it. Some chick with a crew cut, a sleeveless black motorcycle shirt, and denim chaps tried to get my attention but I gave her The Glare and she backed off.

In class I maneuvered Adam into sitting between Crystal and me but it didn't last. As soon as the bell rang Magnusson told everyone that our commercials for Bushie's Off-Road had started appearing on the air, and then he called Adam and me onto the talk show set.

First Magnusson played the commercials straight through. Then he played them again, this time hitting the pause button every few seconds and asking us to explain what had been going on at the shoot. When it became obvious that Nadia had been there too, Magnusson made her join us on stage. Tess Palmer, the drama princess, was peeved but kept trying to hide it. It was actually pretty funny but I had to hide that too.

At the end of class Magnusson asked us to bring in any out-takes, deleted scenes, or raw footage we could get. He also encouraged us, if possible, to film the filming next time.

The instant the bell ran a message from Bushman popped up on our PDAs. Adam had a long run to English and Nadia had a long one to Math so I placed the return call.

"Vivian, thanks for calling," Bushman answered. "Have you seen the commercials on TV?"

"Yes, I have. They look good," I replied. I figured that seeing them in Communications class was close enough. And for sure they were better than the Beep Beep the Jeep Creep commercials Bushman used to run.

"We're already getting a lot of phone calls because of them," Bushman continued. "I think sales are bound to go up. Great job! So, to keep that ball rolling, I'd like you kids to make a personal appearance at the shop Saturday. You know, like it says in the contract. Do you see any problem with that?"

"Not at the moment but I'll have to check everyone's schedule. Is it OK if Nadia calls you back later today?" I proposed.

"Sure, that'll be fine," Bushman agreed. "Now, there's one other thing: I'd like you and Adam to come in today and see what Ollie's been working on. I think you're going to like it."

"I have school until three this afternoon, then Adam, Nadia, and I have an after-school commitment until four. After that, Adam has swim practice and I have to work until eight," I explained. "So shortly after eight is the first time we'd be available."

"Hmm. OK, shortly after eight it is," Bushman agreed. "I'll have to pay Ollie some overtime, but we're backed up on repair jobs and maybe that'll give him some time to catch up. Hey, listen, those commercials really do look great. I'll see you this evening, then."

"OK, this evening," I confirmed, then I disconnected and hustled up to College English.

Period 3 - College English

Once again, nothing much happened in College English. Petunia Pei had lost her panties someplace, but Yulan Yuan was still in full possession of hers. Atkins droned on and on about Henry David Thoreau, occasionally writhing around his podium as if Loretta Manlesse and Brenda Geiss might take an interest in his oversized pierced dick. If so, he was even more clueless than I thought. Then again, I'm not a big fan of Henry David Thoreau.

Lunch Period

When the bell finally rang I headed straight for the door to the athletic shower room. Adam arrived a few minutes later. Nothing was going on in the wrestling room so that's where we parked.

The room was about fifty by a hundred feet. In one corner, a pair of double doors provided entry. The ceiling was about twenty feet high, supported by visible steel beams. Light fixtures hung between the beams but we didn't need them; a row of high windows admitted a soft light. There were mats on the floor, mats stacked in the corners, and a few rows of bleachers along the interior wall. The place had a musky smell to it.

Adam threw a couple of towels on one of the mats; then we sat cross-legged facing each other.

"Are you OK, skipping lunch?" I began.

"Oh, yeah, I am. It sounds terrible anyway. The choices are habanero glazed liver strips and chicken-fried beets. And to tell you the truth, my stomach is still a little off from that dinner last night."

"Why, what did you have?" I innocently asked.

"Well, my mom was supposed to pick up some tacos on her way home last night," Adam began. "But somehow they screwed up and gave her two fancy dinners as well. One was a stack of fish and vegetables with sauce all over it..."

"El Tinaco," I interrupted. "That's grilled Chilean sea bass with roasted fingerling Peruvian purple potatoes, chanterelle, and baby carrots. The sauce was mole negro Zaachila."

"What's chanterelle? Or Zaachila?" Adam asked dubiously.

"Chanterelle are trumpet-shaped mushrooms. They have a gold or yellow color and taste a bit like apricots. Mole negro Zaachila is a black sauce from Oaxaca, "I explained. "What was the other dinner?"

"It was a steak with some kind of cheese inside and a seafood tamale on the side."

"Did it have a thick black sauce?" I asked. "Sauce that was sweet and spicy?"

"Yeah, like that," Adam confirmed.

"Well, then it was El Tajin. That's grilled filet mignon stuffed with Maytag blue cheese, served with a crabmeat tamale. They make the sauce from ancho peppers and madjool dates."

"Maytag, like a washing machine?" Adam probed. "You're making this up, right?"

"No, not at all. Maytag is a gourmet brand of blue cheese. Ancho peppers are dried poblanos. Madjools are the king of dates. They're the largest, the softest, and the best tasting kind," I explained. "Did they give you an appetizer?"

"Yes, some round chips with dabs of chicken stuff on them."

"Those are salbute," I explained. "The topping is baked shredded chicken breast marinated in achiote, bitter orange juice, spices and fresh herbs. They serve it on miniature tostadas."

Adam just stared at me.

"Achiote comes from the annatto tree. It's both a red food coloring and a musky seasoning. The Mayans were the first to use it."

Adam stared at me a moment longer, then asked, "Did you mess with my dinner?"

"I didn't touch your dinner," I replied. "Did you eat any of those tacos?"

"Well, yeah. My mom and I ate a little of everything."

"Well, that's probably the reason. You need to keep away from those greasy tacos."

Adam was staring again.

"OK, I mighta made a phone call," I admitted.

"What kind of phone call?" Adam demanded. "You don't get food like that from Erubio's Super Mex."

"You do if you know Ruby," I explained. "Erubio's happens to share a kitchen with Las Tres Sirenas, you know. The cellars connect."

"Why would they do that?"

"It goes back to the 1920's. You know: prohibition, speakeasies, violin cases, all that stuff. Ruby's family goes way back."

"And you know him because...?" Adam probed.

"He used to run a taco stand and, ah, catering business along the coast. I used to spend a lot of time on the coast. It's as simple as that."

"How come both of you are here now?"

"Neither of us could go west. The ocean was there. So we both happened to go east. The rest was luck."

"So, you came here from the coast?"

"Uh, look; I didn't suggest skipping lunch so we could talk about yesterday's dinner. That business this morning: What was that all about?"

"I just thought it would be a surprise," Adam replied, "like that scene you set up in the lounge yesterday."

"What made you think I wanted to get swarmed?" I wondered.

"What makes you think I did yesterday?" Adam countered.

"Look: Monday you were pissed because of that business with me and Fischbak in the gym. As far as I'm concerned, Fischbak started that with a Reasonable Request. I can assure you, he's not my type. Then you had a scene with Olivia, and I guess you thought that was all right."

"I was trying to get back at you," Adam admitted.

"For all of Monday?" I questioned him. "How many girls did you mess with on Monday? Because after that silly business with Fischbak, I didn't make it with anyone! You wanted exclusive: Fine, I did exclusive. But you weren't exclusive, were you?"

"Vivian, those were Reasonable Requests. None of them were my idea."

"Yeah, but you went along with it."

"Those are the rules."

"Oh, bullshit!" I exclaimed. "Glare at 'em before they start talkin' to ya'. Tell 'em you're already late for class. Make a Reasonable Request for them to play statue or wear a blindfold for ten minutes. You went along with 'em because you wanted to."

"Well, you did what you wanted, too," Adam maintained. "You wanted to flip off the Reasonable Requests and you did. And not just because of me."

"Well, it was obvious you had no plans to be keep away from other girls. How many were there? Ten? Twelve? Well, that's fine. I thought that was the deal anyway. But what about me? I held off because I though you were trusting me to hold off."

"So, the swarm in the lounge: What was that about?" Adam demanded. "Wasn't it the opposite of what you wanted? I made it with you and, what, five girls? But you only made it with me?"

"There were six others: Nadia, Crystal, Sandra, Olivia, Rita, and Serena. See, I figured you were messing around with all those girls on Monday to spite me. I wanted to prove you couldn't spite me that way, because it was OK."

"I wasn't doing it to piss you off, Vivian. They were Reasonable Requests. Maybe I played along too easily but they were Reasonable Requests. And anyway, you never said you expected me to be exclusive."

"Yeah, but you told me we were supposed to be exclusive, and you never said anything different," I reminded him.

"I think when you met me in the shower yesterday, and when the four of you accosted me before and after Communications class, and when your posse swarmed me in the lounge, you were trying to take control," Adam explained. "I never asked for that. You pushed me into it. It was against my will."

"Is that what the shower swarm this morning was about?" I asked. "You put yourself in control by setting that up against my will?"

"I just gave you a taste of your own medicine. That's all," Adam asserted.

"Well, look, because of your injection being overdone, you have to cum four, five, six times a day, right?"

"Yeah, that's about right," Adam agreed. "You might not think that's a nuisance, but it is."

"Exactly. And I can't always be around that often. So I don't see how you can be exclusive. Does that make sense?"

"Well, yeah, it's just that Monday morning you surprised me, that's all. I guess we won't be exclusive. I thought we were going to be closer than just friends, through."

"Have you ever actually screwed anybody but me? You know, in the cunt?"

Adam shot me a very surprised glare. "That's quite a question," he remarked.

"Well, Cynthia doesn't think you have, and neither do I," I stated.

"Cynthia... My mom! Why would she even think about that? And why would she tell you?"

"Well, it's OK, Adam, because neither have I. You're the only guy who's ever been inside me."

"I thought you'd been around quite a bit," Adam remarked.

"In some ways yes, and in some ways no," I explained. "I don't know what I was waiting for, but it turned out to be you."

After that we just looked at each other for a couple of moments. We started to hear footsteps in the hall.

"Isn't there a barrier or whatever that I should have noticed?" Adam eventually asked.

"A hymen? Look. You know I used to water ski, and surf, and drive off-road. When you do those things, you wipe out from time to time. You land funny. You hurt yourself. That's probably where it got broken. Either that or somebody stickin' their finger in.

"So, is that our agreement?" I asked. "Other stuff we mess around a little bit -- nothing serious, not too much with any one person -- but we save the real deal for each other?"

"Uh, OK, I guess," Adam replied. I threw him The Glare.

"No, wait; that's fine. I agree," Adam corrected. "I just never heard of an arrangement like that. You surprised me. I just wasn't prepared."

"Well, it's the same arrangement Cynthia and Walt have. You heard of them, right?"

"Cynthia and... What! My mom and dad! That's not possible! Why would you say that?" Adam nearly shouted.

"Uh, Adam, Cynthia told me some of her real estate clients expect to mess around with her, and the bosses at the airline expect the pilots and flight attendants to be at out-of-town sex parties. Oh, shit. She never told you that, huh?"

"No, she certainly didn't," Adam replied. "It still doesn't seem possible."

"Well, forget I said anything, then. Maybe I heard wrong," I suggested. "I really like your mom, you know. I hope she doesn't get mad at me."

"How can I forget a thing like that?" Adam replied. "And I doubt you were mistaken or lying. That's not like you. It's just that it's my parents..."

"Adults have sex lives too, you know," I stated obviously.

"Yeah, I know," said Adam. "Look, we're almost out of time. Where are you going after work?"

"Oh yeah, that's right. Bushman wants to show us something tonight at eight o'clock. Can you be at the shop then?"

"Yeah, sure. You wanna come over to my house afterwards? I'd like to talk some more."

"OK, maybe a little later, like nine thirty or ten. I have some errands and chores to do."

"Why? What's going on?" Adam inquired.

"Oh, nothing. Just some cleaning up and some old favors."

Just then, the room lights came on and Edwards, the gymnastics coach, started lining up the kids arriving for fourth period gym. "We better go," I decided.

"So, you came here from the coast?" Adam asked again as we left. I made a show of huffing and puffing our way to history class, and of talking to everyone I knew along the way. Adam finally got tired of that and went ahead, and then a dorky sophomore guy approached me as if to make a Reasonable Request.

"I have a Reasonable Request," I suddenly told the nearest Program participant, a bald Polynesian chick named Polyna Faka'osifolau.

"Oh, good grief. What is it?" she replied.

"I want you to hold perfectly still, like a human statue, until there's barely enough time to get to your next class," I explained. "Meanwhile, I'm gonna be lookin' at ya."

"Just looking? No touching?" asked Polyna.

"I said perfectly still. Your lips are moving," I chided her, and then she went catatonic.

Then, of course, the dorky sophomore guy spoke up." I have a Reasonable Request," he began.

"Sorry, but I'm still involved in this other Reasonable Request," I told him.

"But that one's gonna last until the period starts!" the dork lamented.

"Aw, too bad," I commiserated; then the dork moved along.

"Thanks," said the human statue. "This isn't half as bad as most of the stuff people have dreamed up."

"Your lips are moving," I chided Polyna once again, then I left her and set out for History.

Period 4 - History

Outside the history classroom Adam once again had a line of girls waiting to make Reasonable Requests. This time, however, he'd managed to issue a Reasonable Request of his own first. He'd ordered Erin Shaunessy to watch him as he posed.

He was pretty good at it, too. As I watched he rolled through front double biceps, front lat spread, side chest, side triceps, rear double biceps, rear lat spread, abdominal pose, and most muscular. Of course, he had the body for it, and his nicely-formed and permanently erect dick added a second level of interest. Meanwhile no one could touch him because he was already busy.

Just before the bell rang, Adam slimed Erin from tits to toes. I guess that was his way of thanking her, and for being a good sport. Fortunately, Erin took it in the spirit Adam intended, and even shared her good fortune with Katie Sullivan.

Adam and I got seats next to each other near the back corner of the room, which cut down on the amount of ogling and whispering and teasing for both of us. Laitle was on a roll talking about the early development of colonial Virginia and Carolina. I spent way more time than I should've thinking about Shallow Chasm. During the last fifteen minutes we had a quiz.

After class, Adam gave Julianne Dithers a Reasonable Request to find a pair of tweezers and then hold still while he plucked her eyebrows. Of course, nobody in class had a purse, let alone tweezers, so Julianne had to run outside and start asking people in the hall. This kept Adam "busy" with that request and unable to take any others.

Erik Shoults almost got me with a Reasonable Request, but I got him first. I told him I wanted him to dump me. So he did and then I rushed off to Law.

Period 5 - Law

For some reason I ended up that day in the rightmost seat in the jury box: the foreman's seat. Julio showed up a moment later wearing a rock-band t-shirt and sneakers.

"Do I look better now?" he asked, wiggling his hips so I'd notice his cock.

"Yeah, nice trim," I replied, hoping that would satisfy him. When it didn't, I found myself asking, "Where'd you get it trimmed?"

"My mom did it," Julio admitted.

The last thing I wanted was to get wrapped up in Julio Sessums and his newly-shorn cock, regardless of how good it looked. So, when Melinda Robideau filed past me, I got her attention.

"Melinda, Julio was just showing me his new cock trim. What do you think of it?" I asked.

"Not bad," Melinda remarked, pausing for a good look. That was all the opening I needed. In a flash I headed toward the gallery, leaving Melinda my original seat.

The only remaining gallery seats were in the back. Of course, nothing can ever be easy. The instant I sat down Elwood Wiggins showed up without his pants and sat next to me. Now frankly, Wiggins didn't have that much to show. Even so, if I'd seen it before I would've remembered it. That meant he'd probably dropped his trousers just a few minutes earlier in the hallway. Then he hit rock bottom with a series of dumb pickup lines.

"You see my friend Julio over there?" Wiggins asked. "He wants to know if you like my cock."

When that didn't work, he tried, "I see you don't wear underwear. Neither do I. Don't you think it's cool not having to worry about your undies showing?"

Oh brother, but it got worse. "You don't have to worry, you know. I'm not trying to get in your pants."

Wiggins showed no signs of slowing down. Fortunately, Ursula Beitz took the seat on his other side. And yes, she was in The Program that week. Ignoring anything Wiggins said, I put my hand on his thigh, leaned toward Ursula, and summoned her with a crooked finger. Ursula leaned forward on his other thigh, then moved her ear in front of my lips.

"Do you know how to shut this guy up?" I whispered quietly.

"What about aisle three?" Ursula murmured.

"Yeah, that might work," I whispered. "You got the other barrel?"

"Sure," Ursula breathed.

Wiggins was starting to get excited so Ursula and I resumed our normal positions. Then, as if to seal his fate, Wiggins asked, "Do either of you girls like Chinese food? I hear the Shanghai Cock is fabulous."

"Look, Wiggins, I'm not impressed by that pube job. Anybody can get the same thing from aisle three at the drug store," I told him in a voice that was much too loud.

"And no, I don't know of a cure," Ursula added just as loudly. "You'd have to ask a urologist."

Instantly Wiggins turned beet red and no, I mean his face. Even better, there were no seats left, and thus no means of escape. He had to finish the class seated between us.

Anyway, time was up. Consuelo entered the room wearing a studded leather collar, a leather corset, and jack boots all in black. As accessories a pair of handcuffs, a ball gag, and a dildo hung from the lower edge of the corset. The piece de resistance was a riding crop that swished as she stroked it through the air.

Once at the bench Consuelo didn't dress or undress any further. Instead she just continued her lecture about The Role of Precedent. Then, as homework, she assigned a case study involving the landmark case of State of Kansas vs. Nationwide Nightly News for indecent exposure.

When the class ended Wiggins was out the door like a flash, no doubt searching for his pants.

"It's been a while since we talked," Ursula reminded me.

"Well, everybody's keepin' a low profile," I reminded her. "I like the legs, though. You like being that tall?"

"I like having enough bone density that if little Calvin rams me again I won't have to spend another six months in a wheelchair. Of course, makin' 'em thicker, they woulda looked chunky if I'da kept 'em the same length. Then, you know, some muscles to fill 'em out..."

"Yeah, I can empathize with that. Hey, listen: I might need some drivers Saturday. Are you available?"

"You mean..."

"Naw, it's just a few loops around a test track, if we can get it built."

"Viv, you have that look. And what about your jeep? And those commercials? They're not exactly low-profile."

"OK, there mighta been a few rumbles. Or not. All I'm askin' is can you drive some laps on Saturday?"

Ursula locked her eyes onto mine. I shrugged. She raised an eyebrow. Then we both whispered, "Bang!" and went our separate ways.

Period 6 - Calculus

Outside the Calculus classroom I found Petunia Pei and Yulan Yuan in the midst of a shouting and shredding match with Imani Duncan, Aaliyah Yupe, and Makayla Threase.

Imani was six foot five and played center on the girl's varsity basketball team. Aaliyah and Makayla were both well over six feet and played forward.

Yulan had already lost her panties, and Petunia what little there was of her skirt. In addition, both girls seemed in danger of having their blouses ripped to shreds. For the moment, Imani, Aaliyah, Makayla were wearing puce mesh sports bras and chartreuse thongs.

Vaguely, I sensed that Yulan was setting up Imani for a body slam by Petunia. That could've been ugly with no mats on the floor but Leibniz stepped out and broke up the argument. I didn't stick around for accusations but apparently the five girls had been fighting over Ben.

During class, Julio and Pietre devoted most of their attention to Petunia and Yulan, who ended up naked except for buckle shoes, drooping knee socks, and tattered blouse remnants. Of course, Leibniz was onto them and kept asking both guys to answer questions at the board. Ben was kind of wigged out about the whole business and kept to himself.

I didn't know where Imani, Aaliyah, and Makayla went. I only knew they weren't taking Calculus.

Wednesday After School

After Calculus class the hallway was peaceful. Other than a few guys who were collecting clothing remnants as souvenirs, there was no sign of the earlier melee.

When I got to the drama shop for Holloway's whippy-dippy support group, Ben was in the hall talking on his PDA.

"Lavi, this is Ben," he was just saying, obviously to Lavender Liu. "Yeah, I know. Long time no see. Three days, right? Hey listen. Could you, Ginger, Heather, and Jasmine meet me by the parking lot doorway at four o'clock?"

Lavi and the others all played volleyball for Outer Midlands High School. At just over six feet, Lavender was the short one. Even as juniors, they'd been instrumental in winning the previous year's state championship.

"OK, thanks. I'll meet you at four o'clock, then," Ben concluded, and then the call dropped.

"Uh, Ben, you're still gonna track down a titanium welder for me, right?" I questioned him.

"Oh sure, I haven't forgotten," Ben assured me. "I only wanted some bodyguards so I could get out of the building safely. That's all. You heard about that catfight between fifth and sixth periods, right?"

"Not only heard about it, but saw it," I replied, then Ben went inside.

Wow. A three-way catfight among Petunia and Yulan (Tai Chi Chuan), Imani, Aaliyah, and Makayla (basketball), and Lavender, Ginger, Heather, and Jasmine (volleyball), all over six feet. I wouldn't mind selling tickets to that one, I thought.

Ginger Zenzaro, as you may recall, is my cousin. Yeah, I know what you're thinking but her mom actually was my real mom's sister. Of course, that was before my mom left me at the age of six, and before Ginger's mom died in a car accident. Anyway, once Ben was out of earshot, I took the precaution of calling her.

"Gin, this is Viv. Hey look, I hope you guys aren't going to monopolize Ben all night. He promised to do some things for me and he's not done yet."

"Oh, no problem," Ginger replied. "There's a team meeting tonight, and we all have to go. So, we won't keep Ben more than a few hours."

"I suppose he'll be spent by then anyway," I conjectured.

"Don't be so sure," Ginger replied, "But I promise we'll be done with him before dinner."

"OK, that's good. Uh, look; you wanna do some driving Saturday?"

"Driving? You mean...? Really?"

"No, its just a test track and street machines. But it's better than nothing, right?"

"Yeah, when you put it that way. When and where?"

"I'll let you know if it pans out."

"Tell me this isn't a one shot," Ginger encouraged.

"No way to tell, yet," I slid.

"Who else is in?"

"From the old gang? You, me, Olivia, Ursula, Magic, Reb, ..."

"OK, then. Bang!" said Ginger.

"Bang!" I replied, then we disconnected.

After the problems on Tuesday, Nurse Nystrom stood at the drama shop door regulating the crowd. She was only admitting students who were naked or who turned in a card stating their problem or question. That kept out enough curiosity-seekers and gossip mongers that we could all sit in a circle again. Adam sat next to me on the right. Dee Muntz dragged out the fake tree stump as usual, and then parked it and her butt on my left. A moment later I felt something slap the small of my back.

"I'm sorry," Dee apologized. "You know, I'm not used to my arm being so long."

"I'm sure you won't let it happen again," I allowed. Then, a moment later, I saw something in the corner of my eye, grabbed it, and yanked.

"Ouch! That hurts!" Dee exclaimed, stomping her spike heel.

"Sorry," I replied, "I thought that wasn't going to happen again."

"Like I said, I'm not used to my arm being so long. Let go, huh? You're still hurting me."

Small wonder. For one thing, I was keeping a very firm grip on her wrist. For another, I was digging my fingernails into it. Dee stomped her spike heel again, then she snarled and bared her teeth. For some reason, she was wearing long pointed ones. Perhaps it was the cafeteria food.

"Good thing I moved my foot, isn't it?" I probed. "I'm surprised you didn't see that."

"You startled me, that's all," she replied. "Now, would you let go of me?"

I did, but only because Nurse Nystrom called the session to order. First she explained the purpose and ground rules, and then she asked anyone with a problem or question to speak up.

"Uh, hi. My name is Travis O'Grady and I'm Naked In School," began a solid-looking guy with dark red hair.

"Hello, Travis," everyone replied. It's funny how every group did that, even though no one ever told them to.

"Well, my problem happens on the school bus. I mean, I usually wear clothes, but being naked in class or whatever doesn't bother me that much. People see me naked anyway, like in gym, or in the washroom, or outside on warm day or whatever. But I hate it when I'm naked on the bus and someone naked sits next to me."

"Is it because of the touching?" Nadia asked.

"Well, yeah. I mean, the seats are narrow and the bus is crowded. You get pushed together, and the bus jostles you around. You can't help but touch them and rub against them."

"Can't you just sit next to someone wearing clothes?" Teah wondered.

"Well, you know how it is," Travis explained. "The fully-clothed kids usually sit together, and they push away anyone who isn't dressed like them. And sitting next to someone who's topless, bottomless, or less doesn't really help."

"Is it boys or girls you don't like sitting with?" asked Dan.

"Rubbing against a naked guy is freaky. I don't like that at all," stated Travis. "But sitting next to a naked girl is freaky, too. I never know how to act. Will she get pissed if I look at her? Will she get pissed if I ignore her? Should I talk to her? What should I say? And yet, there we are, completely naked and touching each other."

"Is there anyone who's on the bus, who's naked this week, and who you already know?" Dan asked.

"There's my friend Rueben and his girlfriend Shanice, but they always sit with each other" Travis explained.

"Well, I think you should pick someone else and get to know her," Dan suggested.

"How?" Travis wondered.

"Well, you could call her this evening and ask if you could talk to her on the bus tomorrow. Or, if she gets on the bus first, ask if it's all right to take the seat next to her. Or if you get on first, save a seat for her and then ask her to take it. Once you know each other, I think it'll be easier for both," Dan proposed.

"OK, thanks," said Travis, then he sat down.

"My name is Retta Kodowsky and I'm in The Program this week," stated a tall, well-built blonde wearing only a pair of high heels.

"Hi, Retta," everyone replied.

"My problem is with my boyfriend," she explained. "This week he's seeing me naked for the first time, and he acts like it's nothing."

"What did you expect?" asked Crystal.

"Well, I thought he would look at me differently, or try to feel me up, or have more sex or something," Retta explained. "But he only looks at my feet and shoes, the same as before. This is hard, you know, being naked, but I thought at least I'd score some points with my boyfriend. But nothing's happening. Am I ugly or something?"

"No, I don't think you're ugly," Adam remarked. I kicked him gently. Dee slapped me harder than before, then I caught her arm, she pulled back, I dug in my fingernails, and she stomped the floor. The sound echoed through the room. Luckily I'd moved my foot.

"I think your boyfriend just likes feet," Crystal suggested. "Some guys are like that. I think they used to call it a foot fetish. Nowadays, they call it podiacly inclined. Does he kiss your feet a lot? Does he ever want you to jerk him off with your toes?"

"Why, yes, he does. He says it's the only way he can cum. I used to hate it, but then he learned how to toe-fuck me. He wears latex socks so his toenails don't scratch me."

"Well, if you like the guy otherwise, it all seems pretty harmless," Crystal advised.

"Don't spend a lot of money on outfits," Nadia added.

"I'm Rolf -- Rolf Incera," began a blonde guy with an average build and a huge cock. "I'm in The Program this week," he continued, as if everyone couldn't see that.

"Hi, Rolf," we all answered.

"I just don't think it's fair that naked girls look better than naked guys," Rolf explained.

"I'm not sure that's true," Nadia claimed. "Maybe you just like looking at girls more."

"No, when an artist or a poet wants to convey beauty, they always use a woman," Rolf countered.

"Maybe the artists or poets were guys," Nadia suggested. "And don't forget Adonis."

"No, female artists and poets also use women as icons of beauty. As for Adonis, he was the son of Venus and Cupid, or of Aphrodite and Eros, depending on which version you like. And Aphrodite was the goddess of love, beauty and sexual rapture. As for Eros, he was the god of love and sexual desire, but not of beauty."

"The Celts had a god of beauty named Angus Og," volunteered Travis O'Grady, the bus rider, who was still, uh, hanging around.

A long silent pause ensued, but then Nadia recovered. "That's gotta be an Irish thing, right?" she asked Travis. Then, before he could answer, she continued, "Rolf, let's say you're right. So what?"

"Well, maybe guys shouldn't have to be in The Program, or do it less, or not do it the same weeks as girls."

"They used to do that, but the courts ruled against it," Dan explained. "It's a sexual equality issue. Everyone gets the same rules."

"You could get skinnier and smoother if you want. Just change your injection," Teah suggested.

"You could let your hair grow out. If you could stand the people staring at you, you could even grow tits," I suggested. Then Dee slapped me again, I grabbed her arm again and dug in my fingernails, Dee tried to stomp me, but I'd moved my foot. Ho hum. But then, I dragged my toenail across the back of Dee's ankle, she screeched, and everybody else went silent. Nystrom glared at us.

"Rolf, regardless of how you define beauty, I'm sure at least some girls would rather look at you than at other girls. Have you considered that?" Teah eventually asked.

"How would I know which girls?" Rolf replied.

"Well, if you spot them lookin' at you, that would be a clue," I suggested with Dee's arm still firmly in hand. Dee was surprisingly powerful but so was I.

"Hi, I'm Ananda Muss and I'm in The Program this week," an average-looking girl began.

"That's all right. You don't have to give your name if you don't want to," Nadia told her.

"No, I'm Ananda Muss."

"That's all right," Nadia stated again.

"No, I'm ... Never mind. I've been walking around school naked for three days now and I don't think anyone even notices me."

"So, you have a feeling of being nondescript?" Teah asked.

"No, I'm Ananda Muss."

"But you feel nondescript?" Teah repeated.

"I don't even know this Skrippe girl. And if even if I did, I can't imagine feeling her up. I don't like girls that way."

"Well, how do you feel around the school? Do you find it highly embarrassing?" asked Crystal.

"I don't know her either. And if I did, I certainly wouldn't feel her up."

"Who?" Crystal asked.

"Ananda Skuel."

"Well, how does your family dress around the house?" Crystal prompted.

"We don't know any Ananda Howes. And if we did, we certainly wouldn't dress her. She would dress herself, if she wanted to."

"Have you asked anyone to pay attention to you?" Nadia suggested.

"I don't know Annie Won either. Plus, like I keep telling you, I'm not into girls."

"How about a new accessory or a new look?" Crystal proposed.

"I don't know them, either."

"Who?" Crystal continued.

"Andrew Zachary or Ngu Luk."

"Look, Ananda, I think you should call Eisenblush Salon and get yourself a new look. Ask for Sandra Samuels. She's a cosmetologist there," said Nadia.

"I still don't know this Ngu Luk. And why should I care who Sam resembles? I don't know anybody named Sam."

"Can someone give this girl a ride to Eisenblush Salon?" Dan asked the group.

"I will," replied a decent-looking guy sitting a few places down from her. As the two of them left, the anonymous girl grabbed his butt and he grabbed hers. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" she said as the two of them passed out of sight.

"Who was that?" Adam asked me quietly.

"I don't know, but I think he's hard of hearing. I saw him kill the mike on his PDA." I replied.

The next girl was fairly normal-looking if you discount the black Mohawk, the pasty-white skin, the blood red lips, and the black eye makeup. She was wearing black combat boots, one ripped fishnet stocking, a black bra, and a length of black cloth wrapped around her waist and fastened with a safety pin. Her ears were so loaded with earrings that the nose ring seemed anti-climactic. She was average height but very thin, almost waiflike. Even after she had the floor and everyone was listening, she just looked down and remained silent.

"Everyone, this is Joy Inkarnette," Crystal explained. "She's a bit shy sometimes. How's it going, Joy?"

"Medium dull," the new creature replied blandly.

Joy returned to silence so Teah asked, "Have you known Crystal long?"

"No, I only know Crystal Cleary," Joy replied vacantly.

"How long have you known Crystal? Crystal Cleary," Teah clarified.

"Like, in years?" Joy asked.

"Yes, how many years ago did you first meet Crystal?"

"Uh, I think we used to be lizards or somethin' in, like, India. It was couple a thousand years ago."

"How long have you known Crystal in this life?" I tried. Really, I did.

"Oh, we used to be little girls. But we just found each other a couple a years ago."

"I help her with her outfits," Crystal explained.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anybody," I reassured Crystal, whose response was a derogatory gesture. Joy meshed her fingers in a strange way and then stared at them.

"Do you have a question or a problem, Joy?" Crystal asked.

"Oh, yeah, I do. It's for Dee. Uh, yesterday, in like, homeroom you said you had trouble being in cars, busses, and planes. Is that, like, because your mane gets in the way?"

"Yes, that's how it is," Dee answered.

"Oh," said Joy, looking disappointed. Then, however, she seemed to have another thought. "So, how do you get around?"

"I have a cycle," Dee explained, at which Joy brightened up. "It's a Trans-Cal Moto-Master 7000 Turbo, modified so my hair can't get caught in the wheel spokes or the drive chain or anything. First I sit down, then I coil my hair inside a specially-padded tour pak and then I close it."

Joy's expression drooped again. "Oh, I thought maybe... Well, OK, thanks," she said, and then she morosely sat down.

"Where'd you get a bike like that?" Nadia asked Dee. Even then, I think she knew something was going on with Trans-Cal.

"Averill Overdale's Dirt & Trail," Dee replied. Fortunately, it was almost four o'clock and time for me to leave for Bogswamp's. Otherwise, she probably would've tried to stomp my foot again. I knew something was fishy with that girl, or whatever she was.

"You're not yourself today, are you?" Joy absently asked Dee, but Dee didn't answer.

Technically, I left the school parking lot at two to four and arrived got to Bogswamp's at two after. It should have been a ten minute drive but I took a few, uh, shortcuts.

Courtney Bomzer was waiting outside with a stack of contract packages. In no time at all she flagged me down, jumped into the passenger seat, and buckled her seat belt. Courtney shouted the first address just as I reached the exit to the main road.

When we got to the first house a guy wearing a long-sleeve button-down shirt, dress pants, and wing-tips had us wait outside because his wife needed time to change out of her housecoat. Then, five minutes later, his wife appeared wearing a short lacy black nightgown and let us in. Fortunately, the signing itself went pretty fast.

When we got to the second house the door was open. We rang the bell anyway, and a voice told us to come in. A lesbian porno flick was running on the wall screen and three girls were sprawled out watching it and masturbating to beat hell. Two more were eating each other on the couch. A small pile of blouses and panties was in the corner.

"Just spread out anywhere," the girl closest to us mumbled from between her partner's thighs.

"No, we're from Bogswamp Realty and we have a few papers your parents need to sign," Courtney explained.

"Mom, the chicks from the real estate office are here," the same girl yelled into her partner's cunt.

A minute later, three adult women emerged from the back of the house. One was heavily boned, short haired, and dressed in a flannel shirt. The second was a blonde with face, tits, and legs to die for, wearing a sheer nightgown and a boa. The third had black hair in a pony tail and bangs, black and silver eye makeup, blood-red lipstick, and a leather corset.

The house didn't seem to have a dining table; instead, the dining area contained a collection of examining tables, ottomans, and supply cabinets. I was afraid for a moment we were going there anyway, but instead the women led us into a family room furnished with a full-wall TV, a stereo, lots of mirrors, and a twelve foot circular bed.

The butch and the dominatrix sat side by side on the bed, cross-legged, with the femme sprawled across both their laps. Courtney and I sat a few feet apart, also cross-legged, facing the three women. Some girls can sit on their heels quite a while but when I try it, my foot goes to sleep.

"You girls can get comfortable if you like," encouraged the femme.

"Thanks, but we need to make several more stops today," Courtney replied smoothly. "We just need your signatures on these forms. The first set accepts the buyer's offer for your existing house, the second set finalizes your offer for the new house, and the third set covers the alterations you wanted in the new house."

"Ellen, Melissa, and Rosie, are signing similar papers, right?" asked the butch.

"Ah, let me check," Courtney offered. Then she pulled up some records on her PDA. "Yes, I see it now," Courtney confirmed. "They're also selling their house and buying a fifty percent share of the new one. Same terms, same alterations."

"We're engaged," explained the femme.

"The three of you?" I asked.

"Yes, to the three of them. We're going to be a sextet. Isn't that yummy?" the femme giggled.

The dominatrix made a fuss about us telling her where to sign, but eventually the paperwork was done and we headed back to the jeep. On our way out, we noticed that the original living room group had moved into the examining room, and that six or seven new girls were rolling around the living room floor.

"That dominatrix," I remarked once we got back to the jeep. "Didn't one of those papers show her maiden name as Bomzer?"

"Yeah, she was my mom's first wife," Courtney confirmed. "They separated and remarried when I was little, but they both kept the name Bomzer."

"So, are you..." I began.

"No, not at all. Most children of gay or lesbian parents are straight, you know."

"Yeah, I guess I did. That's gotta be confusing, though. Did you ever think that being lesbian was normal, and that liking guys was perverted?"

"Just drop it, OK?" Courtney urged, so I did.

The next contract was for two young professionals just moving into town: Nelson and Loraine Vogel. We were supposed to meet them at their hotel, but no one matching their description seemed to be in the lobby. I asked the desk clerk to call their room but there was no answer.

Fortunately, their PDA address appeared on the top page of their paperwork. Loraine apologized for running late and promised both she and Nelson would there in about ten minutes. To kill the time, Courtney and I took a walk around the hotel.

About eighteen or twenty people were decked around the outdoor pool. About a third wore conventional, conservative swimsuits. Another third were naked. The rest were wearing topless or bottomless suits, thongs, ultra-strings, or whatever. The lifeguards and cabana girls, of course, were naked.

A Japanese family was hauling their luggage into their room. The dad and two boys, about eight and twelve, were naked. The mom and a fourteen-year-old daughter wore conservative knee-length dresses.

A pair of new twins were pissing in the bushes. Their mom was pissing on the lawn. All three had matching sports bras.

A couple of businessmen were giving each other head outside the sauna.

A waitress took off her clothes, tossed them in her car, and reported for work.

A mother reminded her children to close the room door and curtains before opening their suitcases. She didn't want the other guests to see the family's underwear.

A middle-aged couple were getting a rub-down in the day spa. The husband's towel was hanging over his ankle. The woman seemed to have lost hers completely.

Three families had crowded into the outdoor shower and showed no sign of leaving. The soap sprayers seemed particularly popular.

In the gift shop, a mother and daughter argued about the necessity of using the changing room to try on a t-shirt.

In the lobby, Loraine Vogel was waiting for us and looking a little peeved. I guess she got there in nine minutes rather than ten. The three of us had to wait another two minutes for Nelson, though.

Nelson arrived wearing a waist-length suit coat, matching briefs, and wing-tip sandals. Lorain was wearing a gray pinstriped business bikini and mesh boots. Signing all the papers took only a few minutes, then Nelson and Lorain asked us if they were underdressed or overdressed compared to other lawyers in town. I told them what they had on was fine, as if I knew. As if anybody knew.

The last call was at a strip mall. A naked couple in their thirties was taking the keys for a new sportswear store. I wished them the best of luck.

"Phew! I'm glad that's over with," Courtney exclaimed after we pulled away from the house.

"Yeah, me too," I empathized. "Hey, look; I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. Do you mind if I stop for something on the way back?"

"No, that's fine. In fact, I'm ready for some dinner myself. What were you thinking of?"

"Do you like Chinese?" I asked smoothly.

"Yeah, every so often," Courtney replied.

"Call Lai King's Ping Pong Café and Truck Stop," I told my PDA.

"Lai King's carry out or delivery?" inquired a crackly voice. The video showed a skinny oriental kid wearing a Lai King t-shirt and a paper hat.

"Let me speak to Bubba," I told the kid.

"Oh, Vivian, I so glad to see you!" said Bubba's voice a moment later. "I think something happen to you! You make me worry!"

"I hate to be a pest," I explained.

"Oh, you never a pest!" Bubba assured me. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"I already owe you too many favors, Bubba, but could you make up one special for me and my friend?"

"Oh sure, that easy," Bubba replied. "You gonna eat here? I save your favorite place, you know."

"Sorry, Bubba, I'm on the job tonight and I'm headed back to the office. It'll have to be take-out."

"Oh, no problem! No problem! How soon you want that?" Bubba asked.

"I can be there in ten or fifteen minutes," I estimated, "I'm drivin' a Jeep these days."

"OK, OK, I watch for you. Is your friend with you now?"

"Yes, she is," I replied.

"OK, bye-bye then," said Bubba.

"Bye-bye" I replied with a chuckle. Then I heard Bubba order, "Phat Wong! One double special for Vivian!" and the connection dropped.

For a while Courtney was impressed that I knew a restaurant owner. Of course, her impression changed when we got to the place. It was just a door and two windows facing a dark alley that ran behind a large brick building. The words Lai King were hand-lettered on the door and a neon sign in one window proclaimed Ping Pong. The patrons, such as they were, parked in a vacant lot on the other side of the alley.

The minute we pulled up, four guys wearing bamboo hats and silk embroidered pajamas started filling the back of the jeep with bags and boxes. After about five minutes they ran out of stuff and Bubba stepped outside.

"Vivian, I miss you so much," he said warmly. So warmly, in fact, that I got out of the jeep and hugged him.

"Oh, Vivian, must be careful!" Bubba cautioned after a moment. "My wife see us, she get very jealous! But don't be stranger, OK?"

"OK. There might be somethin' goin' on real soon," I hinted.

"Yes? Bang Bang?" Bubba asked quietly.

"Sssh," I cautioned him. "It's not definite."

"You let me know, yes?" Bubba pleaded.

"Yes, definitely. How could it be the same without Bubba? You know that, right?" I reassured him.

"OK, uh, bye-bye, then," Bubba said in full voice after glancing at Courtney.

"I'll be in touch," I promised, then I waved and we were off.

"This food smells fantastic!" Courtney exclaimed. "It's hard to believe it came from that hole in the wall. Did you pay him, by the way? I was watching to see what this cost."

"Bubba and I have an arrangement," was all I could say.

When we got to the office Courtney and I started carrying food into the break room. Along the way we passed Cynthia, who was masturbating while handling a phone call in her office.

It took several more trips, but we finally got all the food into the break room. I was just unpacking the appetizers when Cynthia glided in.

"Oh, that smells heavenly!" Cynthia exclaimed. "Where did you get this food?"

"Bubba's," I replied.

"Also known as Lai King's Ping Pong Café and Truck Stop," Courtney added. "Can you believe this?"

"Let me guess; this Bubba is another old friend of yours?" Cynthia asked.

"Yeah, sort of," I admitted.

"Well, I have to rinse off," Cynthia stated matter-of-factly. "I'll be back in a few minutes. May I join you?"

"Sure, if there's anything left," I replied, gazing over the enormous mountain of food.

"What are these?" Courtney asked after opening the first box.

"Lemme see," I replied, peering in. "Oh yeah! These are chicken and herb potstickers with mint-chili sauce."

"Mint and chili?" Courtney questioned.

"Yeah, I know, but they're great," I explained. "To make the filling you start with ground chicken and mix in eggs and a bunch of chopped vegetables: spinach, green onions, cilantro, ginger, cloves, and lemon peel. You season it with salt, pepper, soy sauce, and Chinese chili-garlic sauce. When all that's mixed up, it forms the filling.

"Next you put the filling in egg roll wrappers and brown 'em in sesame oil. Then, to cook 'em all the way through, you heat 'em in a blend of Chinese plum sauce, cooking sherry, and water. Try one. They're great."

"What are these?" Courtney asked, looking into another box.

"Second appetizer: Woo Tul Gow," I explained. "Taro Root Cake. Thick slices of taro cake filled with fried scallops, mushrooms, shrimp, Chinese bacon, and creamy taro."

"If those are the appetizers, what's all the rest of this stuff?"

"Uh, let's see. This is Asian noodle, mushroom, and cabbage salad."

"What's the main course?" asked Cynthia, who had just returned and was still toweling herself off.

"It's probably in these boxes," I replied, opening them one by one. "Oh yeah, I'd say Bubba took care of us pretty well. This first one is steamed chicken with black mushrooms and bok choy. Oh yummy! This is red-cooked pork with frizzled ginger. This next one is sesame beef and asparagus stir-fry. Oh wow, steamed sea bass, Cantonese style! And my favorite: shrimp and mushrooms in spicy black bean oyster sauce.

"OK, these two are rice: one white and one wild," I continued. "Then we have two side dishes: stir-fried sugar snap peas with Chinese sausage and Szechwan shiitake risotto."

"Risotto sounds Italian," Courtney remarked.

"Only the rice," I explained. "It's actually shiitake mushrooms, Szechwan peppercorns, shallots, and Arborio rice cooked in beef broth, butter, soy sauce, and a dash of dry white wine.

"Then what are these other boxes?" Cynthia wondered aloud.

"Probably dessert," I mused. "Yup. Number one is banana-walnut spring rolls with caramel-rum sauce. Number two is five-spice roasted pears with sesame seeds. And last but not least, lychee coconut sorbet with mango and lime."

"That last crate weighed a ton. What's in there?" Courtney asked.

"Oh, good grief. It's five pots of tea. This one," I explained, smelling the first," is Longjing, which means Dragon Well. It's a green tea that comes from the West Lake region in Hangzhou. See, Bubba marked it G for green.

"The one marked J is a green tea scented with jasmine. It's popular in Northern China.

"This is Qi Hong, a black tea that originated in Anhui," I decided after sniffing the third. "It's marked B for black."

"The one marked P seems to be Pu'er Tea, a brick tea made in Yunnan province. Brick tea is actually black or green pressed into a block so it's easier to transport.

"And this must be Oolong," I predicted before lifting the cover from the last pot. "Yup. It grows on cliffs in Fujian, Guangdong, and Taiwan. Some people think it's good for body building and dieting. It's O for Oolong. And here are some teacups and plates and chopsticks. Dig in!"

I was so hungry that I'd loaded my plate with potstickers, Woo Tul Gow, and Asian salad before noticing that Courtney and Cynthia were just standing there. "Is something the matter?" I asked.

"I was just watching you handle those chopsticks," Cynthia explained.

"Are there any forks?" Courtney wondered.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I apologized. "Maybe in one of these bags... Yeah, here they are. Dig in!"

"Why do these forks say Imperial Jade Palace?" asked Courtney. "I can't afford to park there, let alone eat the food."

"Uh, maybe they were surplus, or Bubba just got them by mistake," I improvised.

"Are Bubba's and the Jade Palace by any chance on the same block?" Cynthia asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Well, sorta," I had to admit. "Are you sure you don't want chopstick lessons?"

In addition to Cynthia, four other agents and Ozzie Bogswamp were still working late. All eight of us plus a half a dozen clients ate until we were stuffed, then Courtney, Cynthia, and the other agents packed leftovers for home. The rest we labeled, "Help Yourself," and crammed into the break room refrigerator.

"Well, thanks for the food, Vivian. It was great. I just need to take a shower now and get going," Courtney explained.

"Still a little messy with those chopsticks, eh?" I prodded.

"Oh yeah, I'm a mess. If I had clothes on, I'm sure something would be stained. I just hate to get in my car or walk thought he mall when I'm all sticky like this."

"I have the same problem," said Cynthia. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"No, not at all," Courtney replied. "I mean, who worries about showers any more? It's no different from being naked anywhere else. Vivian, how about you?"

"Sure, I could use a rinse," I agreed.

The shower room was about fifteen by thirty feet, with the floors and walls all done in tile. The left wall featured a mosaic of satyrs and nymphs having an orgy in the courtyard of a Greek palace. On the right another mural depicted a merman and mermaid doing what sea creatures do, with buildings of Atlantis in the background.

Throughout the room an array of showerheads, pulsating shower wands, body sprayers, and other fixtures hung from the ceiling and upper walls. The fixtures near the entrance were fairly conventional but in back were a nylon hammock, a couple of swings, a couple of weight benches, an ice dispenser, and some four inch stainless steel rings fastened to the wall. Hidden speakers played pulsating, exotic music. The lighting pulsed and changed color in response to the music.

"Was that Lonnie Delonnie on the phone?" I asked Cynthia.

"I can't imagine how you guessed that," she replied sourly. "First she called me from her office, then she wanted to see the simulation of her kitchen plan, then she wanted to see me sitting on a barstool in the breakfast nook. I'm sure you can guess the rest."

"What's her office like?" I wondered.

"Oh, it looks like an Egyptian palace with columns and foliage and daybeds all around. In one corner there's a fountain that she also uses for showers. She calls me from there sometimes and I have to come in here."

"There's a phone in the shower room?"

"Oh, there's about a dozen. You don't notice them because they're built into the shower fixtures. The clients choose the one they want and then pan and zoom like a Webcam. Anything for a sale, you know."

From the look on Courtney's face, I don't think she was aware of that little tidbit.

"This all looks like new construction," I remarked.

"Well, with everything else that was changing, Ozzie needed to do something. We all take a lot of showers now, and so do some of the clients. There wasn't room for two washrooms and two shower rooms, so now we have one of each.

I know what you're thinking but nothing funny went on. Okay, we helped each other with our backs and butts. It was only in a friendly way, though.

"Do you always work this late?" I asked Cynthia after we finished showering and Courtney had left.

"No, it's just that Walt's been out of town on flights, Adam's been in swim practice, and the twins have been spending time with their friends. With no one at home, I may as well catch up on things here."

"How does Walt like being a pilot?" I asked.

"Well, it's not very much like his boyhood dream. The computers and the instruments do almost all the work now. He's just there to keep an eye on the computers. Even so, he still likes flying better than anything else he could do."

"What was his boyhood dream?"

"Oh, you know; fly a biplane; storm around the country; land at county fairs; walk the wings; find the Red Baron; strike a pose so women could ogle the brave young man and his flying machine."

"Maybe he'll get a chance someday," I suggested.

"Well, if he ever does, there'll be no holding him back; I can guarantee you that. He's still got the old airplane books he fell in love with as a kid, and he still looks through them and gets all watery and stares into space. Vivian, are you OK?"

For a moment I couldn't speak, then I managed to mumble, "Sorry, something got in my eye."

"He's still got his bank account, too," Cynthia continued.

"What bank account?"

"When he was ten years old he opened a bank account and started saving his money for an airplane. He's never withdrawn a dime. He just keeps depositing money and looking for the right plane. Are you sure you're OK?"

"Oh, yeah," I sighed. "You just reminded me of some things, that's all. When is Walt getting home?"

"He gets in tonight and won't fly again till Monday," Cynthia replied. "It'll be nice having him around for a few days. What about you, Vivian? Do you have somewhere to go this evening?"

"Just the apartment. That's where I live."

"Vivian, you've been dealing with so much lately, and deep inside you're still a young girl. You shouldn't have to be alone. Why don't you stay at our house again?"

"Oh, I hate to intrude," I begged.

"No, no, you wouldn't be intruding at all. I need to thank you for this wonderful food tonight. And it was so nice having you stay with us on Monday. Will you please stay with us again?"

"All right," I finally replied. All right mom, I thought.

Cynthia had just a few things to finish, then she had to leave for home. Obviously, she wanted to be there when the twins and Walt got home, whichever came first. Before she left, I told her not to expect me before ten.

I knew I was spending a lot of time on non-realty business, but I also knew I was ready for the Bonded Courier and Notary Public exams. Even so, I found an open computer and brought up the study materials. Then, I told my PDA to set up a conference call with Nadia and Ben.

"Vivian, what's up?" both of them answered within a few seconds.

"Are both of you alone?" I asked. Ben wasn't so we waited while he went to his room and closed the door.

"Do either of you remember Dee Muntz from last year?" I continued. "You know, from first semester?"

"I remember the name, but not how she looked," replied Ben. "She just kind of blended in with the background."

"She used to be skinny, without much of a figure," Nadia recalled. "She was shy and never talked much. I didn't really know her."

"Well, I think there's something going on with her," I confided. "She's not acting like a shy, overlooked girl who changed her appearance to get noticed. She's too aggressive for that. Plus, the way she's hanging around the support group seems odd. She doesn't state a problem and she's not on the panel. And finally, that Trans-Cal Moto-Master 7000 Turbo she's riding is an oversized dirt bike. It's not the sort of thing a girl or woman would normally choose for riding around town."

"None of that is incriminating," Ben pointed out.

"I know, Ben. I just have a bad feeling about that chick. I'm usually right about these things, but I admit not always. Anyway, I wonder if the two of you could check out her story."

"Like how?" Nadia asked.

"Well, just check out everything we know about her. For starters, check out what she said during school announcements on Tuesday. For example, did she really go to the Blackcomb-Weller special features center in Featherton? Does that place even exist? Nadia, the office must have some records that explain why she wasn't in school last spring. Maybe you could find those and check out her story. Maybe when you're candy-striping at the hospital, you could get access to her centralized medical records."

"I don't have the access codes for that," Nadia objected.

"Ben, could you help her with that?" I asked.

"Maybe," Ben replied. "This could be risky, though. Are you sure it's worth it?"

"I think it might affect that project we discussed yesterday evening," I explained.

"Why do you say that?" Nadia asked.

"Well, we started the project yesterday and Dee got nastier today. That might be a coincidence, but maybe it's not. I just have a bad feeling about her. If it turns out she's been honest, we can stop worrying about her."

"OK, I'm working in the school office tomorrow," Nadia agreed. "I'll see what I can find in Dee's school records. I'm not candy-striping until Saturday morning though. Ben, if I need your help, I'll call you."

"OK. In the meantime, I'll see what else I can find out about her," Ben agreed.

"That's great. Thanks, Ben," I stated, and then he and I disconnected.

"Was there something else?" Nadia asked.

"Yeah. Adam and I are supposed to meet with Bushman a little after eight. He wants to show us something that Ollie Chan's been working on, and then set up an appearance at the shop Saturday afternoon."

"You want me to negotiate the fee?" Nadia asked.

"Yeah, but after Adam leaves. Keep out of sight until I call you. OK?"

"Well, you gotta tell him sometime, right?"

"Yeah, I will, but I want to work in a couple of surprises. That means I'm gonna hafta surprise Bushman, too."

"Like what?"

"Well, I thought it'd be nice to have some music or maybe a couple of food stands. I think we just need to get Bushie's Off-Road verbal OK. He won't have to pay anything."

"Vivian, you know food stands need to have licenses, right?"

"Oh, yeah, but these mobile vendors just buy 'em once a year."

"You mean like a hot dog cart or an ice cream truck?" Nadia asked.

"Uh, yeah, like that."

"All right. Well, it's almost eight. I'll get going and wait for your call."

"Roger that," I confirmed, then we disconnected. Bang!

At two minutes before eight I left Bogswamp's and headed toward Bushie's Off-Road. Despite taking a few shortcuts I arrived at three minutes after. How was I supposed to know the fire department would be playing volleyball on the station's front lawn? Or that they rigged up a fire hose as an outdoor shower in case they got sweaty?

Adam was waiting for me outside the shop. Maybe it was the firemen or maybe it was the light of the sunset, but as I watched him standing there he looked really great. Six foot two, blonde curly hair, blue eyes, chiseled jaw, big shoulders, long powerful arms, broad chest, rippled abs, solid hips, sculpted butt, thighs rippling with muscles fore and aft, tight balls, rock-hard foot-long cock sticking straight out. Yeah, he was a project, all right.

Eventually, of course, he noticed me watching him and wondered why I wasn't getting out of the jeep. Then he checked himself out, as if he might have something sticking into him. Every time he turned or twisted, his ever-hard cock jiggled. I decided to wait a moment longer.

The show, however, was short lived. Bushman broke the scene by emerging boisterously and shouting, "Hi, kids! Let's go in back and I'll show you what we've got."

Adam followed Bushman and I followed Adam. That way, I could watch his back, waist, and butt flex as he walked. Not to mention the reflection of his jiggling erection in the display windows.

Bushman led us into the maintenance shop and eventually to Ollie Chan's bay. Ollie was working on a lime green Dunemaster Desert Fox fitted out with bumpers, low headlights, brake lights, turn signals, and everything else it took to be street-legal.

"Well, this is it," Bushman proclaimed. "We're getting such good response from the ads with you in the Jeep, Vivian, that I figure the same thing ought to work for Adam in a dune buggy. What do you think, Adam?"

"This would be mine?" Adam gasped.

"Well, we wouldn't actually transfer the title," Bushman explained. "It's just a promotional deal, like Vivian driving the Jeep around. We could amend the contract with the same terms. Go ahead! Get in! Try it on for size!"

I have to admit, Adam looked really good getting into that buggy. His shoulders twisted, his butt flexed, and his legs flexed in all the best ways. And of course, his cock jiggled some more.

"Is that steering wheel in the way?" Bushman asked Adam.

"Yeah, I seem to have that problem all the time now," Adam replied. Actually, I thought it was kind of funny, but cute too, the way his upright cock tended to get caught in the steering wheels of cars. I suppose I could have held it out of the way, but not when we were apart.

"A smaller steering wheel would help," Adam proposed. "And could you fix this seat so it went back farther?"

"Yes, we can do that," Bushman replied. "Anything else?"

"Are there going to be doors, or a roof?"

"We want people to see you, Adam," Bushman explained.

"Well, what if it rains?" Adam asked.

"OK, we can mount a soft top," Bushman replied. "You'll only flip it up in bad weather though, right?"

"OK, that'll work," Adam agreed.

"I could use one of those, too," I interjected. "I got caught in the rain Monday and it was pretty miserable."

"OK, I'll have Fiona Fledermaus, my office clerk, work on it. I'm sure we don't have anything in stock that'll match the color. Hmm, if we have to go custom anyway, maybe we can get some ads painted on it. That'll offset the expense. Anything else?"

"Sound system?" Adam asked.

"It'll be integrated with the satellite electronics."

"That's fine," Adam agreed.

"So, what do you have in mind for us on Saturday?" I asked.

"One possibility is for the two to stand out by the curb and wave to people," Bushman explained. Wrong answer. "But come with me and I'll show you the other." Oh if only, I thought.

Bushman led us outside, then to a fence at the back of the RV lot, then through an overgrown gate. This left us facing a large but empty oval lot. Yes!

"This is the back lot," he explained. "It's really more space than I need, but it came with the land for the shop. The seller wouldn't divide the parcel."

"Why not?" I asked. After all, I was supposed to be learning the real estate business.

"The entire lot is surrounded by private property. If I hadn't bought it, the previous owner would have been stuck with it. Who's gonna buy a piece of property with no way in or out? That's why he wouldn't subdivide, and that's why it now belongs to me. I figured I might expand into it someday, or build a test track out there. So that's my second possibility."

"A test track?" I asked as calmly as I could.

"Exactly," Bushman replied. "My brother Willy owns a heavy equipment business. I figure that between now and Saturday afternoon, he could come it and grade a rough track. You know, fill in the worst ruts, shape up the hills a bit, maybe add a couple hills. Then, one of you could flag down customers from the street, and the other could give rides around the test track. You could switch off every so often."

"Would this be in the jeep or the dune buggy?" Adam asked.

"You could switch off on that, too," Bushman proposed.

The idea of standing naked by the road and flagging down motorists didn't exactly appeal to me nor, I was sure, to Adam. Five minutes of that was too much, let along half the afternoon. People make that mistake, you know. Just because you don't wear clothes, they think you're an exhibitionist. I didn't worry about it, though. I had my own plans.

"That sounds fine to me," I told Bushman smoothly. "Adam, you don't see any problem with that, do you?"

"Uh, no, I guess not," he replied.

"Do you kids want to talk contract now?" Bushman asked.

"Nadia will handle that," I replied before Adam had a chance. "She couldn't be here now but she'll be in touch."

"That's fine," said Bushman.

"Can I bring my dad to look at the dune buggy tomorrow?" Adam asked.

"What time?" Bushman needed to know.

"Oh, around four o'clock, I suppose," said Adam. "It'll just be a few minutes. I have to do something else at school until four, and then I'll have to get back for swim practice."

"Four o'clock is fine," Bushman replied. "I'll probably be here but if not, Ollie can help you. OK then, I think we're on track. I have a very good feeling about all this. Have a safe drive home."

"You too," we both wished Bushman, and then he headed into the shop. I, meanwhile, walked Adam to his car.

"Are we still going to talk tonight?" he asked.

"Yeah, your mom asked me to stay at your house again tonight, so we'll have plenty of time to talk. Did you have dinner yet?"

"No, I'm famished," Adam admitted.

"Well, you might want to try some of the leftovers I happen to know your mom brought home," I suggested.

"Are you going to follow me?" Adam asked.

"No, I have a couple of errands to run. I'll be there later," I promised. Then I couldn't just look at him anymore. I grabbed him and hugged him big time. He grabbed me and hugged me back, too. Then we kissed, kissed, and kissed again big time. A couple of passing cars honked at us, then Adam came all over my leg.

"Oh, sorry," Adam apologized after he'd finished. "You know, uh, hair trigger. It's been a few hours."

"I'll take it as a compliment," I replied smoothly. "Besides, you cum all over all sorts of other girls, why not me? Was it Olivia?"

"Huh?"

"A few hours ago."

"Oh, yeah. Before swim practice, in the shower. That's no secret, right?"

"Right," I replied; then I slapped him on the butt and opened his car door.

"Well, see you later, then," he said, slightly shaken.

"Later," I agreed, and then he was off.

As soon as Adam was out of sight I told my PDA to call Nadia.

"Are we ready to go?" Nadia asked a moment later.

"Yeah, Adam just left northbound so if you come in from the south he shouldn't see you," I suggested.

"I'm south now. Give me half a minute," Nadia said, then she disconnected. Actually, it was more like twenty seconds but who am I to complain?

"Is that from Adam?" Nadia asked, checking out my leg.

"Yeah, I guess I'm a really good kisser," I replied. "Here's the deal: Bushman has a back lot that's gonna be a test track by Saturday. He wants Adam and me to take turns, one flagging down customers from the road and the other giving jeep or dune buggy rides."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, I figure if we get enough promotion, we won't have to stand out there by the road. I know there's no time to make new commercials, but maybe an announcer could do a voice-over. If Bushman doesn't know how to make that happen, his producer Hilda Clipperd probably does. Or maybe Edgar Robinson can figure it out.

"Anything else?" Nadia asked.

"Don't forget to mention the music and the food vendors," I reminded her. "And I think we can charge for the jeep and dune buggy rides. And remember, Bushman won't have to pay anything. If he asks about commissions I guess we can share, but it's his job to ask. You ready?"

"Yeah, I think Bushman just spotted us. We better go in. Otherwise, he'll think we're trying pulling to pull a fast one," said Nadia.

No, I guess we couldn't allow that, I thought. Anyway, I snatched my roll of maps from the jeep and then Nadia and I headed inside.

"Hi, girls, what's up?" Bushman asked just inside the showroom door.

"We're ready to talk contract now," I explained.

"I thought you weren't available tonight," Bushman commented to Nadia.

"I'm sure Vivian thought that was true," Nadia explained. "I had an earlier meeting that ended sooner than I expected."

"Well then, let's go in my office and talk. Are you sure this is OK with Adam?"

"Oh sure," Nadia replied smoothly. "We'll clear everything with him, and I'm sure it'll be OK."

"Business is definitely up from the commercials you and Adam did," Bushman explained, looking at me. "Based on that, I'm willing to pay VAN Enterprises $1,000 for Saturday's appearance."

Nadia replied, "Vivian told me what you have in mind for Saturday, and I like it. But have you considered charging for the dune buggy and jeep rides?"

"Well, you know, it's really kind of a sales gimmick. You can't charge for sales gimmicks," Bushman replied.

"Well, they charge for Santa Claus. They charge for roller coaster and merry-go-round and pony rides. Why not for jeep and dune buggy rides?"

"I don't want to chase people away," Bushman worried.

"Tell you what: Instead of paying us the thousand dollars, let's charge for the rides and split the proceeds. And if the customers balk, we'll give the rides for free," Nadia proposed.

"It's your nickel," Bushman replied. "Let's give it a try."

"Now, if we're going to charge for rides, we want both Adam and Vivian to be driving all the time," Nadia continued. "That way, we can sell twice as many rides."

"Who's going to flag down the customers?" Bushman asked.

"If we promoted the event in advance, maybe we could get enough customers without flagging 'em down from the highway," Nadia proposed. "If you could add voiceovers to the existing commercials, we could find someone to design some posters and nail 'em to some phone poles."

"I'll talk to Hilda Clipperd about that," Bushman promised. "Anything else?"

"Is it OK if we have some music out back? It might filter over to the parking lot a bit."

"Sure, you kids always want your music. Just keep it down, OK?"

"I'm sure you'll let us know if things start to get out of hand," Nadia deferred. "Now, just one more thing: We know a couple of people who runs food stands. Is it OK if they set up nearby?"

"You mean like hot dog vendors and ice cream trucks? Are they licensed?" Bushman asked.

"Yes and yes," Nadia confirmed. "We'll make sure they don't interfere with entry, exit, or parking, and it won't cost you anything."

"OK, sure," Bushman replied thoughtfully. I think he was starting to suspect something.

If only he knew, I thought. He was gonna love it but I wasn't sure he was ready to believe it. Fortunately, Nadia changed the subject. Timing was one of her many gifts.

"Now, Otto, I want to discuss another proposition with you. This has nothing to do per se with the event Saturday," Nadia began.

"OK, let's hear it," Bushman replied, rocking back in his desk chair and touching the fingertips of each hand.

"We'd like to organize an off-road race track," Nadia began. "Basically, the idea is to get people more interested in off-road driving. Initially, they can just come out and watch the races. That'll get 'em interested, and then they'll buy their own machines, whether for racing or recreation. We've located some county property we think we can lease, and we think the start-up costs will be small."

"How large is this property?" Bushman asked.

"About two square miles," I replied. "The track would be a half to three-quarters of a mile in diameter. With some curves and switchbacks, a lap will be eight or ten miles. That means you can run a hundred mile race without too much repetition. A hundred mile race would take about two and a half or three hours to run, which is in the same neighborhood as a football, baseball, basketball, or hockey game."

"How would people be able to see? Wouldn't they rather stay home and see an aerial view from a helicopter or a blimp?" Bushman asked.

"The area we have in mind is a natural amphitheater," I explained. "People could bring binoculars, or we could sell 'em, or we could set up remote cameras and sell video feeds. I've seen this work with less visibility."

"Where are you going to get the racing teams?" asked Bushman.

"The manufacturers will send in teams, because they know racing sells product," I explained. "Then, hopefully, each dirt shop in town will organize a team, and we'll get some independents."

"I don't know about all the other dirt shops," Bushman objected. "That's a lot of competition."

"Competition breeds success," Nadia emphasized. "Or at the very least, everyone will sell more. Of course, some shops will sell more than others, and you'll be in on the ground floor."

"So, why are you telling me all this? I guess you want something. What is it?"

"You mentioned that your brother Willy owns a heavy equipment business," I explained. "Do you think he could spare a couple of bulldozers and small crane on Saturday to grade a preliminary track?"

"That depends. What's the location and what needs to be done?" Bushman asked.

I gulped and hoped for all I was worth that Bushman was trustworthy. At least, he hadn't screwed us so far. "This is an aerial photograph I've marked up," I explained, unrolling the first printout.

"The green line marks the perimeter of the natural depression," I explained. "That's where the spectators would camp out. The track, or tracks, would run around inside. The red line shows what I had in mind for a preliminary track. This would be the start/finish, with grandstands here. This is gasoline alley. Over here you and probably some other shops can sell parts, accessories, t-shirts, sunglasses, whatever. This is the food court. This is sanitation. This is a stage for bands or whatever. This is all parking. You pay to enter here."

"What's this?" Bushman asked, pointing to a long rectangle I'd drawn in blue. "It looks like a piece of road going straight from nowhere to nowhere. One end is marked seven and the other twenty-five. Are those highway numbers?"

"Huh? Let me see. Oh, that was a mistake. I forgot to erase it; that's all," I explained.

Bushman stared at the drawing a long time, his eyes widening in awe. "This is a gigantic operation you kids are proposing," he eventually remarked.

"Well, yeah, but to get started all we need are some county permits, some grading, and some temporary fencing and sound systems. The up-front costs are small and there are no long term commitments," Nadia explained.

"In addition to helping us get the preliminary track graded, we're hoping you could ask a few manufacturers to send out some track reps and drivers," I continued. "That's for us to get their feedback, and to get their interest up."

"Like who?" Bushman asked.

"Dunemaster, Ultimate Dirt, and Sandworms Inc. would be good for starters," I suggested.

"Not Trans-Cal, eh?" Bushman asked.

"I've had some bad experiences with them," I stated as calmly as I could.

"I'd have to agree with you there. I don't like 'em either," said Bushman, and I immediately gained new respect for the guy.

"I suppose Trans-Cal will be dealing with Averill Overdale's Dirt & Trail," Nadia remarked.

"Well, in that case, I definitely want in. Averill and I compete day in and day out. I wouldn't want her getting the upper hand on anything. Now, where is this property?"

"I can show you that, but it's strictly confidential," I cautioned Bushman. "We're still working on the leases. If anyone else found out, they could try to outmaneuver us."

"I understand," said Bushman.

I withdrew another map and pointed out the location.

"Didn't that used to be a dump?" Bushman asked.

"Yeah, but just for a few months, and they cleaned it up. But for us, that's a good thing. We'd never get permission to run motor sports on environmentally pristine land."

"Yeah, that's a good point. So all you want now is a crane and a couple of dozers Saturday, and a few manufacturing reps to come out and look on Sunday?"

"It'd be nice if the manufacturing reps brought a buggy or two," I suggested.

"Is anybody else involved in this?" Bushman asked.

"Our lawyer and our accountant, of course," Nadia explained. "Plus, a few of our friends are helping us out."

To that I added, "Ozzie Bogswamp, of Bogswamp Realty, volunteered to help us find the right people and get appointments in City Hall. So far, I think the investors are you, VAN Enterprises, and probably someone you'll be meeting tomorrow. I've worked with her before and she has remarkable experience with this sort of thing. I'm sure you'll like her."

"If you two and Adam are going to be here on Saturday, who'll be out there to direct the crane and the bulldozers?" Bushman asked.

"I'm pretty sure the third investor can do that for us," I replied. "We'll talk about that when you meet her."

"I'll need to meet this third investor before I can approve her," Bushman cautioned.

"Understood," Nadia agreed.

"Well, OK, I'll go as far as we discussed," Bushman finally decided. "I'll call Willy about the work on Saturday, and I'll have Fiona call Dunemaster, Ultimate Dirt, and Sandworms Inc. about Sunday. After that, we'll see how it goes. Well, look; it's almost quarter to nine. I need to start closing up. I'll see you kids Saturday, and probably once before that."

"OK, thank you. We'll be in touch," Nadia assured Bushman, and then we headed out to the parking lot.

As soon as we got outside, I checked my PDA for messages. Sure enough, there was one from Dan.

"Vivian, I'm going to leave this message with Nadia too, but we need to meet with Edgar Robinsong and Lucy Lastic this evening. Edgar says we need to make some decisions tonight so that he has Thursday and Friday finalize our deal. There's no way he can do it all on Friday. Can you make it to Edgar's house at nine o'clock?"

I glanced at Nadia, who nodded, and then I told the PDA to reply, "OK, will attend," by text message. So did Nadia, then I followed her over to Robinsong's house. Between my following her and the darkness, hardly anyone honked, waved, or smiled. Neither did I.

It was shortly after nine when I rang Edgar Robinsong's doorbell. His wife Natasha answered with a smile and nothing else.

"Hi. I'm Vivian Vivicelli and this is Nadia Blosser. We're supposed to meet with Mr. Robinsong at nine o'clock," I announced. Phew. I almost said we were from the real estate office and had some papers to sign.

"Edgar and your friend Dan are already in the study," Natasha replied, opening a tall, heavy door just off the foyer. Apparently, this sort of thing was a regular drill.

The study, as it turned out, was more like a library. Bookshelves covered the walls except for the door, a few tall windows, and a wet bar. Dan and Robinsong were already seated at a large mahogany conference table.

"Good evening Mr. Robinsong," I greeted him.

"Call me Edgar," he replied, "and take whatever you like from the fridge."

Nadia set our roll of maps on the table then mixed a tropical concoction involving pineapple, coconut, vanilla, soda water, and maraschino cherries. I took a bottled mango-lime spritzer. After that we made small talk and waited for Lucy Lastic.

I don't think I'd ever seen that many printed books in one place before. About half of them had uniform bindings, marking them as law books. From what I could see, most of the rest were reference books and some were novels. Thick drapes covered the windows and the whole room was obviously soundproofed. It had that dead sound that comes from the lack of an echo.

Lucy turned out to be the only person wearing clothes: some dark green cotton and Lycra shorts and a matching bra. She found herself a drink -- something cold, creamy, and chocolate -- without Edgar having to offer.

Once we were all seated Nadia reviewed the now-familiar secrecy requirements. Basically, no one was supposed to reveal anything that was said, except to city officials as necessary. She also mentioned that Adam wasn't a partner yet, and this meant the project had to remain secret from the Jonsons as well.

Dan and Nadia then unrolled the maps of Shallow Chasm and explained them to Edgar and Lucy: the location, the county ownership, the off-road racing, the pits and shops, the food court, the additional entertainment, the support facilities, everything. I filled in details as they went along. Edgar and Lucy were awed. Dan and Nadia were awed. Hell, I was awed. I couldn't believe this was happening, especially with a real lawyer, a real accountant, a well-connected real estate magnate, and a sincere (if slightly naïve) off-road shop to back us up.

"Now, Edgar, we need to lock up this property for the foreseeable future. Within a couple of weeks -- perhaps within a couple of days -- word of the project will get out and other promoters might try to take the property away from us. Plus, we need permission to grade the track, install some temporary bridges, and push some other dirt around."

 "What have you considered so far?" asked Edgar.

"We checked into reserving the property, but that's only for small areas of a park, like a picnic shelter. You can't reserve a whole park and even if you could, this property isn't a park. It's just undeveloped county land."

"We also checked into a use permit," Nadia explained, "but those only let us in. They don't keep other people out."

"And neither a park reservation nor a use permit would let us grade the track and so forth," Dan added.

"All right, let me see what I can do," Edgar suggested. "Just offhand, I think there might be a way to lock up the property by offering to buy it. And perhaps someone already has a permit for earthmoving. Somebody had a permit to clean out the trash dump, for example."

"I don't think we have enough money to buy the property," Nadia cautioned.

"Oh, you don't," Lucy confirmed, "but nobody does. Or at least, nobody uses all their own money. They get a mortgage or a development loan or whatever, and then use profits from the business to pay off the loan."

"Are we old enough to get a loan like that?" Dan asked.

"No, but VAN Enterprises could apply," Lucy explained. "Adam's going to be a partner fairly soon, right?"

"Well, yeah, but I think we're going to have some other partners, too," I explained.

"In that case, you'd form a new corporation with those partners. The more backing you can get, the better your chances of getting the loan. But you don't need an approved loan to bid on a property. First you make the deal, and then you go for the loan."

"We already have someone lined up to grade the track," I stated. "What if a different company has the existing earthmoving permit?"

"In that case, we'd get the company with the permit to subcontract the additional work to the outfit you want."

"Why would they do that?"

"We'd pay 'em."

"Wouldn't that be expensive?"

"Not if you're a good talker, which I am," Edgar explained. Nadia nodded knowingly.

"As fast as things are moving, I think we should get together tomorrow afternoon," Edgar suggested." Can you kids all make it to my office after school?"

"It'll have to be after four o'clock," Nadia explained. "We all have a commitment until then."

"I'm going to be busy, but I'm sure Nadia and Dan can handle anything that comes up," I said. "If not, they can call me. Oh, and if you get any flack from city hall or the county, call Ozzie Bogswamp at Bogswamp Realty. He promised to pull levers for us if we needed it."

"Yeah, that's what Dan told me earlier," Edgar replied. "I think Ozzie might be a real asset. He knows everybody down there, and most of them owe him favors. Well, unless one of you kids has questions, I think we're done. Vivian, would you get the door?"

I did, and to my relief, no one was out there listening. I know it was paranoid but even so, I felt better having looked around.

Once outside I hopped directly into the jeep. Unfortunately, Lucy was late coming out and her car was in the driveway behind me. Cutting across Edgar's lawn didn't seem like a good idea, so I had to wait. That's when I spotted Dan and Nadia feeling each other up.

That was a curious development for sure. Dan and Nadia had dated a few years earlier, but Dan caught her scheming and manipulating once too often. I guess the decision for Dan to get a PA had been the last straw. For obvious reasons, not that many guys get themselves pierced though the piss-hole and out the bottom.

But hadn't Dan been out with Crystal the night before? Maybe it was Dan who was on the prowl, not Crystal or Nadia.

Eventually, of course, Lucy came out and moved her car. Once she was out of sight, Dan and Nadia watched each other take a piss in the bushes, he with his PA and she with her pussy rings. Then Nadia moved her car a little way down the block, Dan picked her up, and the two of them headed into the night. Go figure.

When I got to the Jonsons' house I rang the doorbell and waited outside, just as I had on Monday night. This time, of course, I was warm and dry. Then Adam, not Cynthia, answered the door and let me in.

"Is everyone else asleep?" I asked. Except for the foyer and stairway, the whole first floor seemed to be dark.

"My dad got home a little while ago. He's usually tired when he gets home, so he and my mom went to bed early. So did the twins."

"All together?" I asked, but Adam just threw me a dark glance. Then I followed him upstairs, taking particular notice of his thighs, his butt, the back of his balls, and the place in between. He opened the guest room door for me, turned on the light, and then continued to his room at the far end of the hall.

I gave Adam half a minute to get settled, then peeked in. He was sitting at his desk with the chair cocked back, watching Laitle's history lecture on his computer and listening through headphones. Really, it was too easy. Slyly and silently, I slipped onto his bed and lay on his pillow.

I have to give the guy credit; he didn't jump half as high as he would've a few weeks earlier. In fact, he was almost suave about noticing me. Almost.

"You don't use bedcovers, eh?" I asked.

"I used to, but now I kick them off in my sleep. Now that she doesn't wear clothes anymore, my mom keeps the house too warm for covers. Anyway, that's not your bed," Adam replied.

"So, I guess Cynthia and Walt don't use covers either," I observed, writhing on the sheet a bit. Adam was big and hard, but that told me nothing. He was always big and hard.

"I suppose not, but I'm happier not knowing," Adam replied. "Did you use covers on the coast?"

"I suppose the twins sleep in the open too, huh?"

"I have no idea what they do in there, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know. Are you here for a reason?"

"Your mom asked me to stay. You asked me to stay."

"In my room?"

"In your house. What's the matter? All those girls at school wear you out?"

Adam took off his headphones and looked me straight in the eye. "Look: Is this about what you want right now, or about what I want right now? Because I need to work on this History material."

"I thought you'd be happy about the dune buggy."

"Well, I am, but I never asked for it."

"I never asked for the commercials, or the jeep, or the injections, or the job at Bogswamp Realty. I never asked to be here tonight."

"Yeah, but those were gifts, and they must've been OK. You took 'em."

"So the dune buggy is a gift. Are you going to take it?"

Adam stared at me for another moment, and then said, "I'm not sure if you're trying to control me or whether you're just being nice."

"I feel the same way about you. I guess we've both done some of each, huh?"

"If you feel you have to control someone, that means you don't trust them," Adam maintained.

"I guess that's true," I had to admit.

"Is there's something going on that I don't know about?" Adam asked.

"Why do you ask?" I replied.

"Oh, it's just little things," he stated. "Like people keeping away from me, or changing the subject when I come within earshot. Are you working on another swarm or something?"

"No, nothing like that. Uh, look. It's about this appearance we're making on Saturday. It's probably going to be a bigger deal than you expect. I'm sure you're going to like it. I just wanted it to be a surprise."

"Isn't this part of our partnership? Part of VAN Enterprises? Shouldn't I be involved?"

"There's no money involved yet. It's just a surprise, Adam, and it's not all definite yet. Not by a long shot. Just let me have my surprise, OK? I'm sure you're gonna love it."

"I just feel out of control, that's all," Adam admitted.

"Is it lack of control or lack of trust?" I probed.

"Beats me," said Adam, scratching his head.

"You wanna mess around?" I asked, wiggling softly on the sheets.

"Here? In my house? In my room?"

"Well, there's also the guest room. Do you like it better in there?"

"What if somebody hears us?"

"Who? Cynthia? Walt? They already know. They saw us on TV. Cynthia invited me here anyway."

"OK. Well, look: I still have to finish this History. Give me fifteen minutes, OK?"

"OK," I agreed, and then I rolled over and tried to figure out what had just happened. Within just a few minutes, though, I was sound asleep.