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From: Thinking Horndog <im_a_thinker@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} Second Best 097/136 {Thinking Horndog} (nosex)
Date: Mon, 17 Nov 2003 07:10:06 -0500
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Chapter 97.
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<1st attachment, "SecBest97.txt" begin>
Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Second Best
Part: 097
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples and their
families through the period immediately preceding their Senior Prom.
Keywords: nosex
Keywords for full story: F-solo, Ff-inc, M+F Ffm MF mf oral anal bd D/s Mg-
inc Fm-inc mm mmf rom MF-reluc
Chapter 97
Other preparations
"I can NOT believe that you plan to go to the Prom looking like that!"
Merry complained in the car on the way home. "What do you think you're
doing?"
Denise covered her mouth to keep the chuckles from leaking out, while
Dina presented a look of offended innocence. "I'm making a statement!
Certainly you have to agree that it's a striking look!"
"I guess!" Merry returned with withering scorn. "You might as well
have tattooed 'Sex object' across your forehead!"
Dina turned to Denise with an expression of feigned inspiration. "Now
THAT's an idea! Could you help me with that, Neesy?"
"Well," Denise returned in mock seriousness, "I don't know. Do I need
to do the lettering backwards so you can read it in the mirror?" She
couldn't hold the pose, though, and collapsed against the door in helpless
laughter.
"Hmmph!" Merry grinned despite herself. "It's a good thing you're
going with Bobby - no one else would put up with you!"
"You ain't seen nothin' yet..." Dina murmured under her breath,
triggering another gleeful howl from Denise.
"Okay, gimme another inch, so I can line up the transaxle," Mike
directed, and Bobby let a link of chain slip through his fingers, lowering
the new motor the brothers were installing in his car the required distance
on the chain hoist.
"Gonna finish?" Big Al asked, ambling up.
"Yeah," Mike announced confidently. "Squirt'll be able to drive his
bomb to the Prom tonight."
"Hey!" Bobby howled, offended, "Don't call me that!"
"Whassamatter, truth hurt?" Al rumbled, earning a glare from his
younger son.
"It might," Bobby sulked, "If it WAS the truth!"
"Then who cares?" Al replied indifferently.
Mike had totally ignored the exchange, wielding a ratchet on mount
bolts. "Gimme another bolt." He directed, reaching out blindly behind
himself from his position half-buried in the engine compartment.
Bobby locked the hoist and selected another bolt from the pile on the
floor. "Here. Are we really gonna make it?"
"Yah," Mike returned, "As long as the fuel injection system primes
properly, you're all set."
"Don't get too filthy," Al directed, "Black fingers don't go well with
a tux."
"Well, it's a black one," Bobby retorted. "So's Dina's dress!"
"Yeah, but a white shirt goes under it - and Dina's skin'll show the
grease!" Al riposted, grinning.
Bobby's next comment was preempted by a muffled voice from the engine
compartment. "Shaddap and gimme another bolt!"
Terry spent the afternoon fidgeting. He'd barely finished cleaning
his car out when his mother returned home from her outing with the girls.
"How does she look?" he asked.
Ellen turned an enigmatic glance upon him, "You'll be pleased. Did
you pick up her corsage?"
Terry freaked. "Corsage?" All of the blood drained from his face.
Ellen laughed. "Best get to the florist!" she directed. "Tell them
something for a redhead in a powder blue dress. And get yourself a
boutonniere!"
Terry rushed out, frantically placing calls on his cell phone. Had
the others also forgotten?
It turned out that Bobby had, but everyone else was on track.
Fortunately, it gave him an excuse to take a test drive, which surfaced a
cooling system problem. Al stuck his head in the door while Mike was
cursing the stuck thermostat. "So, what're you gonna do about Jennifer?"
Mike frowned. "I dunno. She won't answer my calls..."
"I just got off the phone with Helen," Al related, "and she had a long
talk with Jennifer this morning - girl talk, that kinda thing. She says
Jennifer's terminally embarrassed over the other night. She's afraid you
think she's some kinda slut or something." He paused a second, regarding
his son, poker faced. "Well, do ya?"
"No," Mike replied, then his face split in a grin, "But I can hope!"
"Well," Al continued, chuckling, "Helen says that she's comin' around,
and that she's suffering a bit, too, now that she remembers sex. But she
figures Jennifer's gonna stay away out of shame - unless you shame her out
of it."
"Huh? How?"
Al grinned like a shark. "Well, Helen had this idea..."
Tim looked up from cleaning the seats in his car, to find his mother
standing there with her arms crossed and an eyebrow arched. "Mom?"
"I was just wondering..." Trish asked casually, "...how many children
you intend to sire."
Tim took the remark between the eyes, then recovered. There was no
way... He schooled his features. "Huh? Oh, I dunno..."
"...and on whom!" Trish grinned like a cat as she let the other shoe
drop.
"Uhhh..." Tim stopped talking, unsure where to go from here.
"I had an interesting talk with Dolores and Padma this morning," Trish
went on, "and it seems that they have big plans for you."
"Anything I should know about?" Tim asked cautiously.
Trish smiled, enjoying herself. "So, Dolores has surprised you
periodically, huh?"
"A couple of times," Tim admitted, still cautious. How much DID she
know?
"Padma, too?" Trish teased.
"Well, yeah..."
"I understand," Trish set the barb, "that - at least ONE way - you're
somewhat closer to your mother-in-law to be that you are to ME!"
Tim decided it was best to play dumb, "Meaning?"
"Oh, I don't know..." Trish regarded him sidelong, "Something about a
lesson in deep throat?"
Tim blushed bright red. "She took me by surprise!" he protested, then
grinned, "Then I took HER by surprise..."
"Hmm?" Trish inquired.
"I, uh..." 'Jeezus', he thought, 'How do you discuss these things with
your mother?' "I gave her a mouthful," he finished, embarrassed.
Trish chuckled, "So I heard!" She paused a moment, then: "I also hear
they're big on having kids - both of them. In fact, I heard that they're
big on Padma having kids..."
Tim waited her out, silently.
Trish confirmed his suspicions. "...And I hear that you're on tap to
provide them!"
Tim with some trepidation, tried to decipher his mother's expression.
How had she taken that bombshell? How much trouble was he in? He still had
trouble believing that they actually TOLD her... "That's not been settled
yet."
"I know," Trish replied, "and I applaud your concern for Marcus'
feelings. This is a pretty wild and hairy thing they're planning. I hear
it was Dolores' idea..."
"Yeah," Tim admitted, "I pretty much freaked when she came out with
it, but..."
Trish's eyes crinkled. "You can't deny her much, can you?"
"Long term?" Tim sighed. "No. She's..."
"Worth it?" Trish guessed.
Tim, who had actually been struggling to express something a good deal
more complex, shrugged and took the easy way out, "Yes."
Trish chuckled. "Do you know what the backup plan was?" she asked.
"Dolores was going to approach your father!" When Tim's eyes bulged in
shock, Trish said, precociously, "Hell, for the right incentives, I might
let 'em!"
Tim mastered his expression with an effort, being intensely aware of
what Dolores was offering Marcus as an incentive. Did Mom know THAT? Tim
figured that she didn't - that was going 'way over the edge - but obviously
Mom had been offered something...
Trish didn't fail to detect the calculation in his expression. What
was he thinking? Obviously, he knew something he wasn't telling. And had
her little joke about Dolores' offer struck a nerve?
"Are they offering incentives, then?" Tim asked.
"I..." Trish abruptly shut up, having found herself hoist on her own
petard.
"I can guess!" Tim grinned. "It seems I get to learn something
interesting about YOU!"
Tim had turned the tables thoroughly, and Trish was unprepared.
"Um..." she said shakily, thinking furiously.
"Want me to tell 'em you're interested?" Tim leered.
Trish tried to manufacture some outraged bluster, but Tim just stared
her down, smiling sardonically. "Okay, guilty as charged," she
acknowledged, blushing. "This doesn't make me an awful person, does it?"
"Not to me!" Tim grinned.
"I've never... had... a black man before. Truth be told, I've never
had anyone but your father! But some of the subjects that came up this
morning... got me to thinking. Maybe it'd be fun if your father and
I...stepped out, a bit..."
"Well, if you're looking for an experience," Tim laughed, "Marcus
Brown is stereotypical, not typical." He held up his hands, measuring off a
length almost a foot long.
"How do YOU know?" Trish asked.
"Let's just say I caught him letting Padma practice her deep throat
technique..." Tim leered.
"She seems to practice that a lot!" Trish laughed.
"She's pretty good at it, as far as I can see..." Tim offered,
grinning, "If you're looking for pointers..."
Trish put her hands on her hips. "And who would I use for a teaching
aid? Your father? Marcus?" Tim hugged her around the shoulders, and they
walked to the house, chuckling. Trish successfully masked the fact that a
third possibility occurred to her.
Eddie was sitting on the couch watching TV when the pair entered the
house. "So, Runt, what are YOU doing tonight?" Tim asked.
Eddie looked up. "Gonna spend the ni - evening with Denise at her
house," he replied, amending his remarks upon discovery of his mother in the
room.
"I see," Trish retorted, "and will Helen be there?" Her eyes dared
Eddie to lie.
Eddie knew better. "No," he replied tonelessly, mentally waving
goodbye to his evening.
Trish regarded her younger son for a moment, then upped the ante.
"So," she said casually while watching him like a hawk, "Are you sleeping
with her yet?"
'Shit, shit, shit!' went through Eddies mind as he considered his
reply. The mothers had been together all morning... He settled for an
equally toneless "Yes."
"You pass," Trish announced, nodding tightly. "Son, Denise's
chequered career came up in conversation this morning - and we think that
there's some justification for your belief that Denise was abused at some
point. You be good to her!" She turned and stalked off.
Eddie was glaring at his older brother when his preparations to give
him Hell for the demolition of his weekend was cut short by his mother's
directive, delivered over her shoulder, "Take an overnight bag - and a
toothbrush! Nothing erodes a relationship like morning breath!"
Tim chuckled as Eddie's face melted into shock. "You should have seen
the shellacking she gave me! The conversation they must have had!" He
shook his head. "Scary!" His tone became businesslike, "Don't trash my car,
and I'll give you a lift on the way to pick up Dolores!"
Eddie nodded, his mind shifting gears, "Cool."
<1st attachment end>
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