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From: Thinking Horndog <im_a_thinker@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Strange Relationships 38/61 {Thinking Horndog} (MF oral interr)
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Date: Tue, 11 Apr 2006 05:10:02 -0400
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Chapter 38...

Thinking Horndog
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Thinkers_tales/www/

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<1st attachment, "Strange_Rel_38.txt" begin>

Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Strange Relationships
Part: 38
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples from Second
Best and their families.
Keywords: MF oral interr

Keywords for full story:  rom, mf, MF, mmf, MFF, M+F, mm, F-solo, ir, D/s,
bdsm, mdom, spank, oral, anal, 1st, reluc, nc, voy

Strange Relationships

Copyright (C) Thinking Horndog, 2006 im_a_thinker@yahoo.com

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. Reproduction for profit
is forbidden.  Any distribution must include this note and the author's
email address. Don't be caught attempting to make a buck off me!

Warnings and disclaimers:

This is adult entertainment!  Be warned!  If you're not into graphic
depictions of sex, this is the wrong story for you!  If you're too young to
be legally reading this, move along!

This is a work of fiction.  It is not intended to reflect any particular
person or persons, and the incidents portrayed exist in their current form
solely in the writer's imagination.  You get the idea.

Chapter 38
Tabitha Tests Her Money-Maker


	Paul Matheson ushered Tabitha Adams through the entry of his four-
plex, one of a half-dozen in this apartment block.  No one was around; Paul
shrugged to himself.  It wasn't like this was the first time he'd brought a
woman home; on the other hand, it WAS the first time he'd brought home a
black woman.  They went up the stairs to his second-floor apartment in
silence; Paul hadn't been inclined to talk about the run-in in the
restaurant parking lot, and Tabitha had been content to rub his arm and
shoulder while he dealt with driving, phone conversations, and some thought.
Rodday was gonna be pissed, for sure, she figured, and if Paul needed to
think to be sure they didn't get caught up in something else, she wasn't
going to get in the way.  The difference between Paul and his people and
Rodday's was really obvious when you watched 'em mix it up; Rodday's people
were wild and noisy and tried to scare you, while Paul and his people were
quiet and emotionless and just did what needed doing to put an end to
things.  Tabitha was pretty sure that Flood and his two buddies could have
just as easily woken up dead, and that even the broken bones were the
results of conscious decisions on the part of Paul and Scott and the guy
they called Thud.  Tabitha wondered what was next; if Rodday thought about
it, things might simmer down, but if he just reacted, there'd be a shit
storm, for sure...

	Paul unlocked the door and let Tabitha in; a glance around said that
this place had probably never seen a woman's touch.  The toys were out in
plain sight, all over the place, and the emphasis was on gym equipment and
electronics rather than furniture.  No plaques, no pictures, very little
bric-a-brac -- everything seemed to be functional.  Well, the forty-five
inch TV with the cable gear attached to it was a lot better than her
nineteen incher with the foil-tipped rabbit ears...  "Women don't show up
here much, do they, Honey?"

	Paul shrugged.  "When you get to be my age, every woman out there
has issues.  And it's always the other guy's fault -- until you talk to him,
too.  I've done my share of divorce work, and it sours you for tales of woe.
Usually it's all about some woman trying to get paid for the rest of her
life for goods she never delivered in the first place.  Or you have to walk
on eggs around her because she's ruined; you do or say something, and she
flinches and tells you that her first husband -- or her second, or third --
did that..."

	"But you been married, too, ain't you, Honey?"  Tabitha rubbed his
arm.  Actually, this wasn't a surprise; johns usually go to hookers because
their other outlets are poor or nonexistent -- NOT for variety.  She'd heard
similar a million times...

	"Yeah.  Twice.  I got lucky; they weren't in for it for the buck,
and we had no kids, either time.  First time while I was in the Service --
too much time away killed that -- the second after I started PI work.
Basically, it was the same thing -- life was one big stakeout, and she got
bored waiting.  I didn't have time.  Maybe I still don't, but it sure seems
like I have plenty, some nights."

	Tabitha headed for the kitchen.  "There any dirty dishes in the
sink?  Thank fuckin' God!  This place is so damned neat -- you'd toss my
skinny ass out the window in a week, or strangle me wit' my pantyhose..."
she cackled.  Paul's place had surface clutter, but was neat and clean
beneath.  "I ain't a domestic goddess -- I jus' cain't stand drudge work.
That's why I do what I do -- I was s'posed ta be a princess an' have
servants ta clean up after my ass while I laid on my back an' put out for
the king, but there was a screw-up, somewhere.  Doin' it for money pays the
bills and ain't really work, but I ain't been able ta afford the servant
thing.  My place is a hole, an' it'd be worse without Nate."

	"I have a maid," Paul confided.  "She comes in twice a week."

	"Y'all would hafta keep her if I moved in -- an' she'd probly charge
more..."  Tabitha was grinning, but there was a wistful edge to it.  Paul
wondered why the woman would throw herself at him and then say things like
that...

	"Something to drink?" Paul asked, guiding her to the couch.

	"Whatcha got?"

	"Well, beer, mostly, although I probably have soda, too, and could
scare up tea or coffee."

	"Beer's fine, Honey."

	"It's Miller."

	"Good.  I hate Bud."

	Paul headed for the kitchen, and Tabitha, ignoring the offered seat
on the couch, followed him.  "When you gonna stop runnin' from me, Honey?"

	Paul cracked the refrigerator and reached in, passing a bottle to
Tabitha.  With his head still in the door, he replied, "When I figure out
what you REALLY want."

	Tabitha waited until she could engage his eyes, "I wanna know if my
moneymaker still works.  And I wanna know if it's... pleasant... or it's
just there."

	"Why me?" Paul produced another distraction, looking for a bottle
opener.

	Tabitha twisted hers off and stepped inside his guard, her eyes
laughing, " 'Cause you're a project, and I need a project."  Putting her
hand on his chest, she murmured, "C'mon, quit fuckin' around..." and raised
her face to his.

	Further retreat was just stupid; he'd learn nothing more without
entering the trap, so he took the offered lips.  They were big, pillowy and
incredibly soft, and the tongue that came out to play was frisky, despite
the ball piercing.  She handled her tools well...

	But then came the reminder that those WEREN'T her tools -- or at
least, they weren't her professional ones.  Tabitha stepped back and husked,
"You know, hookers don't kiss johns.  This is for fun..."  Taking his free
hand she started pulling him back to the living room, "How busted down is
that couch?"

	"Bad enough that I won't want to finish up there," Paul admitted as
she plopped down and pulled him down beside her.

	"Well, le's cuddle awhile," Tabitha returned, leaning against him.
"Feel free -- this ain't a fight," she added, draping his left hand across
her shoulders and over a breast.

	Paul watched, bemused, as Tabitha tipped up her bottle and downed a
swallow.  He took a big pull from his and sat it on the coffee table.
"What's that supposed to mean?"

	"It means we ain't teenagers an' I ain't arguing with ya over
whether we're gonna fuck, Honey.  Jus' pretend you own it -- been there
before -- an' the only thing you gotta worry about is keepin' me happy about
it."  She took another pull from her beer, "Jeezus, I gotta give you the
play by play?"

	"Okay,"  Paul cupped the offered breast.  "You have to realize that
it's unusual..."

	"Not for me, Honey," Tabitha countered.  "Bein' easy's in my job
description."  She lifted her chest, pressing into his hand.

	Paul gave a quick squeeze to the offered breast and moved his hand
to the blouse buttons.  "Well, you said this was for fun -- you don't want
to mess with the thrill of the chase?"

	"Some other time," Tabitha replied, putting her beer on the table, "
'less you gotta have it..."  That done, she used both hands to pull him in
for another kiss.

	Paul got a hand into the open blouse and absently fingered the upper
slope of Tabitha's left breast while pursuing the kiss.  The bra was a
fairly formidable item of the push-up type; only a direct attack was going
to defeat it, so Paul swept the hand down to her ribs, which displayed
evidence of her thin build.  "You need more meat on those bones," he
declared as they broke the kiss.  "I might break you."

	"I'm wiry," Tabitha grinned.  "You'll find out."  She shrugged her
way out of the blouse and popped the clasps on her bra, sliding it off, too.
"Better?  Open up, I wanna play with your joystick."

	"Is there some kind of hurry?" Paul asked, nevertheless opening his
fly and undoing his belt.  "We've got all night..."

	"I wanna see if I can get three by morning," Tabitha replied,
nuzzling his neck while she reached into his fly.  "First pass might be
quick so we can figure out recovery time."

	Freeing his cock from his boxers turned out to be a fight; Paul was
already hard.  Paul helped out a bit, then reached across and hefted a
breast.  Tabitha sighed.  Handling man-meat was a familiar activity, and the
big paw mauling her breast was gentle.  "I gen'rally like my nips fucked
with pretty hard, but what with the studs..."  She jacked Paul expertly,
sizing up his thick six inches.  Yeah, it was a nice one -- firm, good-sized
without bein' stupid.  She was pleased with it -- it would have been
embarrassing if the big beefy guy had had a little tiny prick.  This one had
a nice, fat head and was solid; she'd seen guys Paul's size who had high
blood pressure, and the meds left them kinda flexible -- and bigger cocks,
usually seen on bruthuhs, tended to the same thing.  Apparently, it was all
about blood supply...  She shifted her attention back to the pleasant
cradling of her left tit, "Maul 'em a little, le's see how they do, Honey."
Paul shifted his primary attention from the area around the nipple to the
nub itself, approaching it from above and below to avoid directly messing
with the inserted studs, and started tugging and twisting, gently.  Tabitha
groaned, and he stopped, instantly, but she murmured, "S'okay.  It hurts
kinda good -- that itchy sore healing kinda thing.  Actually, it ain't any
different than what I'm used to -- jus' easier to get.  Use ta have to bear
down pretty hard..."

	"Maybe they'll be more fun, then..." Paul stifled a gasp.  Tabitha's
hand, more or less on autopilot, was providing an incredible hand-job.
"Hey, look, you're 'way too good at that..."

	"Huh?  Oh!"  Tabitha stopped pumping and squeezed Paul's cock at the
base in order to help him maintain control.  "Better?"

	"Yeah."  Well, it was a matter of opinion, when you consider that
the stimulation had backed off, but he apparently needed to save that cum
for somewhere a bit less anonymous.

	Tabitha sat a moment and grunted, "You know, Honey, this couch shit
is for the birds.  Le's go to bed."

	"Okay."  Paul stifled embarrassment at having to get up on loosened
pants with his erect cock sticking out before him and got up to follow
Tabitha.  "Through there," he directed, pointing, "On the left."

	Tabitha followed Paul's directions while divesting herself of her
skirt, which left her standing in the middle of the bedroom in nylons, a
garter belt and her shoes, which she kicked off as soon as she stopped.
"Want these things?" she asked, indicating the stockings.

	"I've never messed with them; they'd probably be a distraction,"
Paul replied.

	"Fine.  You be right, of course.  We get goin', it'll jus' tear 'em
up."  Tabitha plopped at the foot of the unmade bed and began removing them.
Glancing up, she added, "Why don't you get outta that stuff?"

	Since he was holding his pants up, Paul dropped them, toeing out of
his shoes as he kicked clear.  It wasn't an exercise in speed; Paul was
still wondering why they were approaching this so matter-of-factly, and was
taking his time.  No, it was purely convenience.  He went ahead and got out
of his shirt, leaving his boxers; Paul tended to wear underwear for the
occasion -- briefs for work, boxers more for decoration.  Realizing that he
might end up in a variant of this situation had driven the selection of
boxers tonight, and they had already been convenient, but one look said they
weren't important to his 'date'.  The unmade bed hadn't fazed her, either;
Paul hadn't thought to straighten the mess there, and was embarrassed about
it, but Tabitha just hitched herself up from the foot until she was
comfortably draped with her feet on the floor and crooked a finger, smiling
seductively.  "Is this where you take advantage of me?" Paul asked,
grinning.

	"Somethin' like that," Tabitha agreed.  "Why don'tcha take a look
around?"  She lifted and spread her knees in a pose best suited to a
gynecological exam -- or heavy sex.

	Paul stepped up and ran his hands down her inner thighs, then up
along her sides, ignoring her kinky pubes and the territory beneath for the
moment.  With Tabitha basically on her back, her tits didn't look so floppy,
but Paul wasn't that concerned; they FELT fine, and cradled well in his
hands, which was what counted.  Tabitha was the ebony side of chocolate --
semi- or even bittersweet -- and Paul had never had a black woman.  She was
painfully thin, to the point of being wasted -- some of which was due to her
basic body type, and some of which was her lifestyle.  Her ribs were
prominent, not buffered by fat, and her belly was tight, sunken, and ridged
with muscle visible from holding her upper torso and head up to watch him.
Oddly, Paul found this sexy; very few of his female partners had ever
approached being fit -- in recent years, he'd become used to having to work
around substantial bellies and a certain lack of flexibility in his sex
partners.  And while Tabitha did still appear to be a bit wasted, she didn't
appear frail; she'd described herself as 'wiry', and Paul agreed with the
assessment.

	Tabitha found herself wondering if Paul was just going to plug
himself into her without even removing his boxers -- the move to caress her
sides had taken her by surprise, and brought him in VERY close.  She thought
about holding him up and getting a couple of fingers before just taking in
his pecker, but she'd been driving all night -- it was his turn.
Objectively, she had no idea why she was here with him instead of, say,
Scott -- something about this big bastard set her off, though.  Maybe it was
the muscular thickness of him; he was big, husky, without being fat.  Maybe
it was the brush-cut and his washed-out blue eyes, or that ridiculous
moustache.  Or maybe it was his air of competence; he moved through the
jungle, aware of the predators, and well able to take care of himself -- and
her, for that matter.  He had a little, light-colored body hair, but not
anything bushy -- just a patch on his chest, rings around his nipples, and a
trail that disappeared into his boxers, which was the only thing either of
them was wearing at this point.  Tabitha couldn't put a finger on it, but he
made her pussy itch to look at him; even that morning in the hospital, when
she was in no shape to be touched anywhere, he'd caused her to be flustered
-- something which had allowed him to overcome her natural reticence and get
her signature on the release for the cops.  Since then, she'd chased him
shamelessly, using come-ons out of habit despite the fact that they
embarrassed them both; while she really didn't want to treat him like a
john, she just couldn't come up with any alternate method of getting his
attention.  God knew it'd been FOREVER since she'd been in a relationship
where sticking it out there and being blatantly obvious hadn't been a
winning tactic...

	Paul was different, though.  He was about as suspicious as they
come, and there was no obvious damned reason for her to like him, so things
hadn't been smooth and easy at all...  Tabitha knew that the best thing she
could do right now was keep her mouth shut and let him play.  If it worked,
it worked; if it didn't, talking would fuck it up for sure.  Besides, his
hands felt good...  She sighed a bit, relaxing.

	Paul had no idea what he was accomplishing -- after all, it was
Tabitha's profession to make it look like he was some kind of sex god.  How
in the Hell was he gonna know the difference?  He shrugged and passed his
hands down her flanks again, not because it might please her, but because it
pleased him -- God knew whether she'd tell him the truth if he asked her if
it pleased her...  Paul was more than a little bit intimidated -- all he
could do was his best...  Her splayed position kept him from working her
ass, so he brought his hands up drawing them along the outside of her thighs
from her waist to her bent knees, then back down along the outside of her
calves.  Sensing approval, he let his palms cross the tops of her feet and
working them up the insides of her calves and back down her inner thighs.
Switching to the backs of his hands, he let them drift up and down her inner
thighs while he took stock.

	Paul was pleased with Tabitha's body, on the whole; her feet were
narrow and well-formed, rather than the flat puddles at the end of the leg
so often seen on blacks.  Thin as she was, she didn't approximate the rail-
thin stereotype seen regularly -- obviously, at one point her legs had been
well, if firmly, fleshed.  Her thighs had distinct hollows, and were set on
hips wide enough that there was probably a visible gap when she stood with
her knees together; such easy access was probably of benefit to her in her
profession, Paul mused.  "What?" Tabitha asked at his short chuckle.

	"Certainly easy to get to," Paul amplified.

	"Been havin' trouble, Honey?" Tabitha chuckled.

	"Let's just say you're a little more limber than what I'm used to."
Paul went to his knees; it was time to examine the goods.

	From close up, Tabitha's pussy was well-worn -- it might as well
have had a 'ten million served' sign.  The thin inner lips were loose and
even darker than the rest of her skin -- totally black -- but they exposed a
shocking pink interior, and the whole thing was clean and well-displayed
under a neatly-trimmed patch of wiry pubes.  Paul slid his thumbs along the
fringed lips, pulling them open, examining her vaginal opening in surprise
-- it looked as tight as the lips guarding it looked worn!  Tabitha hissed,
"That's nice...  Why don'tcha feel around a bit inside..."

	"You sure?"

	"I'm hopin' for a good bit more than that, Lover!"

	"Oh, all right."  Paul inserted a finger in her tunnel, a three- or
four-stage operation as she was tight and not that soaking wet -- but he was
watching her eyes, and they didn't reflect serious injury.  "How's that?" he
asked as the lube picked up.

	"Ummm, pretty good!  What'cha think?"

	"It's surprisingly tight..."

	"Ya cain't peddle loose shit, Honey.  They pass the word -- I'd be
outta business in a month!" Tabitha chuckled.  "Lemme guess, them cows you
been datin' be all loose shit, too?"

	"Well, not all of them.  Most seemed pretty tight to start, as a
matter of fact.  But I expected you to feel kind of -- I dunno -- used?"

	"Honey, that's an EDUCATED pussy!"  Tabitha bore down on his finger,
her opening nibbling at it.  "That's the good shit!"

	"Shit, I guess so!" Paul grunted.  "So does this thing work?"  He
started working his thumb over her clitoris.

	"Whoa!  Holy shit!"  Tabitha's eyes bugged.

	"What?"  Paul stopped as if stung.

	"When I'm workin', I don't let johns fuck with that..."

	"You're not working."

	"Yeh, I noticed," Tabitha gasped.  "Awright, go ahead."

	"Why don't you... enjoy your work?" Paul asked, thumb once more at
work.

	"Hookin' is a service business," Tabitha gasped.  "And I'm givin',
not gettin'.  'Sides, fakin' a cum takes a lot less energy than gettin' one,
five, six times a night.  Mostly, though, it's 'bout not gettin' emotionally
involved."

	"How long has it been since you had sex for fun?" Paul asked gently.

	"Long time.  Uuuh!  Looong time!"  Tabitha undulated under the
attack on her clit.  "Even when it wasn't fer money, I took it out in
trade...  Uuuh!  Doin' it too often to really be doin' it fer fun..."

	"What do you do when...?"

	"Diddle.  Uuh!  You do that pretty good!"

	Paul found himself wondering whether it was worth using his cock.
"Well, if you don't really enjoy fucking..."

	"Well, now, it's always been fun...  It's kinda mental, ya know?
Bidness is bidness..."

	"And fun is fun?"  Paul grinned.

	"Uh huh."  Tabitha was mauling her own nipples and panting hoarsely.
"Been a few days on vacation.  Work's... uuh... kinda been off my mind for a
coupla days...  Lordy!  Right there!"  Tabitha got stiff as a board, shook,
and her eyes rolled up.

	Paul chuckled to himself, thinking, 'Well, now I know what I'm
shooting for...'  He kept working on her swollen clit and working his finger
in her spasming tunnel while Tabitha jerked and thrashed.  It took about a
minute for her to visibly settle down; Paul let up and said, "So, that's the
real thing?"

	"Yeah," Tabitha gasped.  "Cain't do that fer customers -- they'd rip
me off while I was wasted, afterward..."

	"I can see that."  Tabitha was limp as a dishrag; Paul could feel
it.

	"That was good," Tabitha husked, "but it wasn't a dick."

	"We'll get around to that," Paul replied.  "How do you feel,
inside?"

	"Nary a twinge."  Tabitha heaved herself up.  "Lessee if this tongue
thing adds to a blowjob."


	The Astronomy Club meeting was winding down.  "This isn't an all-
nighter, is it?" Darla Jean asked.

	"It is for us," Mary replied, "I'm taking Stick and Teddy back to my
place."

	"Us, too," Jimmy added, "Amy's staying the night.  Danny and Thelma
have the other bunk."

	"Ummm, okay," Darla Jean murmured, "I, uh, didn't plan on it.  What
about you?"  She turned her attention to Randall.

	"Things are kind of... loose," Randall replied.  He wasn't tied down
to a particular time -- Astronomy Club meetings went all night regularly,
and his parents had learned long since not to worry about them.

	"Can you take me home, then?" Darla Jean asked.

	"Yeah."  In a perfect world, he'd have some smooth line that would
result in Darla Jean riding him like a bucking bronco again, but reality
didn't seem to offer it.  "Be right back.  Got to use the..."  He waved
toward the bathroom/changing room at the far end of the pool house.

	"Let's go out and look at Jimmy's pool," Mary suggested, her eyes
telling Darla Jean that she had more than that on her mind.  "You can wait
for Randall there..."

	"Okay, I guess," Darla Jean replied, and headed for the door.  Teddy
hopped up, but Mary quelled him with a tight shake of her head; Stick picked
it up and went back to his discussion with Danny.

	Outside, Mary murmured, "Nice, huh?" eyeing the pool.

	"Very."

	"Jimmy would open it, I bet."

	"I don't have a suit."

	"Neither did Thelma or I, Prom night," Amy offered from the door.
"We got wet, anyway."

	Darla Jean eyed Amy.  "You guys are still meddling."

	Mary eyed her, "And we're wrong?"

	Darla Jean looked flustered.  "Look, we can't just do sex!"

	"You know by now that he's capable of more than that," Mary replied.
"I'm not trying to be pushy, but you don't want to get stupid, here, just
because things started out backwards.  Randall isn't Mr. Romance, but he's a
good egg -- and his rep as a lover is going to make things suddenly easy for
him in the short term, which will be a distraction.  Nonetheless, he KNOWS
who he's better off with, even if YOU don't!"

	Darla Jean grimaced.  "I do, too -- but you and I have talked.
Despite Todd and Dwayne, I'm not sure I want to be exclusive yet, even if he
IS a soul-mate."

	Mary shrugged.  "If there is a guy around who you can talk into NOT
thinking with his gonads, it's Randall.  I suggest that you take advantage
of that, rather than just tossing the whole thing."

	"Huh?  How, exactly?"

	"Be honest.  Tell him you like him, but you're not done testing.
Enter into a non-exclusive partnership.  Each of you can play, but you
anchor yourselves with each other.  Try out the emotional piece, and see if
it fits."

	"And sex?" Darla Jean queried.

	"I heard you," Amy murmured, grinning.  "There were real fireworks,
there!  I bet each of you is using the other as the standard to measure
others against.  Maybe you ought to keep that fresh?"


	Randall came out of the bath and looked around.  Darla Jean was
gone; Mary and Amy were missing, too, and Thelma was sliding out the door.
Jimmy looked up, "Some kind of female thing, Man.  Why don't you cool it
until they come back?"

	Randall shrugged and wandered over to Jimmy and Teddy.  "Any idea
what?"

	Teddy shrugged.  "Mary headed out of here with that look in her eye
-- I think she's gonna try to paper over things."

	Randall sighed.  "Well, it was what it was."

	"Actually, it is what it is," Jimmy interjected.  "You want Darla
Jean?"

	"Well, yeah.  She'd stomp the competition even if we were just
having sex," Randall admitted.  "Add everything else..."

	"Okay, well, granted, your stock isn't doing too well at this
point," Jimmy argued, "But I bet Mary is reminding Darla Jean that HERS is
in free-fall, too -- and that you did the right thing about it."

	"Okay, so?  What do I do?"

	"Well, she's probably between a rock and a hard place," Jimmy
guessed.  "She can't just open her legs -- that'd be cheap.  But she'll want
to, if Mary makes any impression on her.  You need to pay attention and read
the signals -- even the dim ones.  Don't push her too much, but take
anything she offers and ask for more.  Work the other side, too -- friend
and colleague, romance -- broad-spectrum attack.  Dig?"

	Randall nodded, thoughtful.  Jimmy added, "Show a little confidence,
too, Man.  You've been there before.  Don't go all limp on her.  You heard
them, earlier; chivalry is dead.  If you're gonna use it, make sure you get
something back."

	"What do you mean?"

	"Tit for tat, Man.  I'm still learning, but it goes like this:  You
open a door for her, she owes you a kiss.  Maybe it's just a peck, but she
owes YOU, too!  It's not a freebie because you're stupid and can be walked
on."  Jimmy grinned.  "I started this with Amy a few days ago; you'd be
surprised.  They start thinking that they owe you, and it's a chink in the
armor.  It makes letting you get away with things more reasonable...  You
get the idea."

	"Well..."

	"There are other aspects," Jimmy added.  "The more she nibbles on
you in public, the less competition you'll have.  And it's a mind-set thing.
Pretty soon, she'll realize she LIKES to nibble on you.  It only gets better
from there..."

	Teddy laughed.  "Yeah.  You and Amy are downright disgusting!"

	"Yeah?  You got any idea what YOU look like with Mary all over you
all the time?" Jimmy challenged.

	"Well, she does Stick..."

	"And she does YOU, too!" Jimmy laughed.  "She tends to be real
touchie-feelie with you BOTH, which gets you noticed..."

	Teddy sighed, "Well, I'm gonna stop worrying about it.  Everyone who
is important to any of us knows what we're up to, anyway."

	Jimmy sobered.  "I knew you were kinda sliding that way -- but Stick
Williams?"

	"It's, uh, unique, but it works," Teddy sighed.  "I'm surprised you
didn't freak at Danny..."

	"You know, it never came up," Jimmy sighed, scratching his head.  "I
don't guess it's important."

	"Him and Stick seem to be getting along..." Randall pointed out.

	"Well," Teddy chuckled, "they have a couple of things in common:
embarrassment, a lack of serious interest in astronomy, friends on site...
I'm not any too worried that they'll pair up or anything..."

	Randall strangled his attack of homophobia, "Sorry."

	"Changes things a bit, doesn't it?" Teddy eyed Randall.

	"It shouldn't.  I apologize," Randall offered.

	"Doesn't mean that any of us doesn't like girls," Teddy pointed out.
"All three of us do.  It's a range -- Stick and Danny, well, I wouldn't
worry about them.  If you wanted to worry about somebody, it'd be me."

	Randall absorbed this.  "Okay.  I refuse to do that."

	"Then we're all set."

	Amy stuck her head in the door, "Jimmy?  Can we go swimming?"

	Ears perked up all over the room.  "You KNOW what the swimsuit
collection looks like," Jimmy warned.

	"Come out here and we'll negotiate."  Amy crooked a finger, and her
eyes swept the room.  All of the males started moving, various significant
glances flickering between them.

	Sales were more difficult outside.  "I don't have a suit, either,"
Mary moaned, "and I look like the Goodyear blimp!"

	Amy shrugged.  "Teddy's seen you, right?  Stick, too?"

	"Of course."

	"Well, these big floppy things are eye-magnets for boys, but they're
pretty saggy," Amy replied, hefting her breasts, "so what?"

	"At least you two have meat on your bones," Thelma complained.  "I
look like a skeleton in shrink-wrap!  Thank God..."  Thelma shut up and Amy
chuckled.  Thelma was superstitious about making any comment that made it
sound like she took Danny's attentions for granted.

	Darla Jean quirked an eyebrow, "What?"

	"Danny sees her a little differently than most," Amy filled in.
"Thelma hasn't figured out that she's a sex goddess yet."

	"Didn't Danny just announce he was omnivorous?" Darla Jean queried.

	Thelma blanched, and Mary winced, but Amy shook her head, "That was
B. T.  He's done.  But he showed again what a good egg he is by taking the
heat off Teddy and Stick."

	"B. T.?" Thelma asked.

	"Before Thelma."  The subject of conversation appeared in the door,
so Amy moved to others.  "C'mon, Mary, suck it up!  You can stay in the deep
end."

	"With the other whales?" Mary replied, but she seemed to be moving a
bit.

	"Look at the bright side," Amy replied.  "We'll all get a look at
Stick's harpoon.  And Teddy's."  She turned to Darla Jean, "Wanna see what
you're missing?"  She flicked her eyes at Jimmy.

	"I've heard," Darla Jean laughed, "You just want to see whether or
not I got the better end of the deal after all."

	"Well, it's a paid admission thing," Amy laughed.  "You KNOW the
boys will all shuck if we do."  She eyed Darla Jean closely, "Give it a
chance."

	Darla Jean got the hint.  This was a prime opportunity to get sucked
into an intimate situation without actively instigating it.  The things
Darla Jean needed to say to Randall were pillow-talk for after sex -- if she
had to get all obvious about getting him there, it would take time or it
would make her look slutty -- or both.  A situation like this granted some
plausible deniability -- she'd gone along to be with the group, things had
gotten out of hand, etc.  "I will if Mary will."

	Mary knew that she was cornered.  Amy had come up with this in
support of her big talk with Darla Jean; now it was put up or shut up.
"What about Thelma?"

	Amy eyed her girlfriend.  "Thelma's a done deal.  Jimmy's seen her,
and Danny could no doubt tell you all about the mole she has on her..."

	"Amy!"  From Thelma's instinctive clutch, the mole was in the
vicinity of her right breast.  But she didn't gainsay Amy...

	Amy eyed Mary, lips quirked.  "Of course, if you're afraid you can't
hold your men..."

	"Awright, awright!  But I want A BIG towel, and I want to know where
chest deep is!"

	"Jimmy?"

	"Yeah, Babe?"  The guys were all standing back; these things were
best done without any male input, it was universally felt.

	"You've got big towels, right?"

	"Sure..."

	"We're gonna need a bunch.  We're gonna skinny-dip, but we need some
sop to propriety for outside the pool."

	"Right."  Jimmy started counting heads.

	"Boys, too," Amy insisted.  "If you won't play, you have to run
along."

	This brought shrugs, universally; there wasn't a male present who
didn't think that the price of admission was well within reason.  Also
significant was the fact that no one gave any thought to recent revelations
of homosexual activity; everyone was clearly focused elsewhere.  "Danny,"
Jimmy asked, "How many beach towels do we have?"

	"Dunno," Danny opined.  "We could run short.  Want me to go to the
house?"

	"Do you mind?"

	"Naw."

	"Let's get a count, first."  The two boys headed inside.

	"Okay," Mary wanted control of things, if possible.  "We undress
inside, and wear the towels until we get in, all right?  We go in naked, and
have to stay that way in the pool -- but outside, we can wear whatever we
want."

	"Awright!  Jeez!"  Amy rolled her eyes.

	"Hey, I'm just trying to keep everybody from puking!" Mary insisted.

	"I bet Stick and Teddy don't complain," Amy challenged.

	"Well, I limit their exposure."

	"It's my fault.  I once told her that she wasn't a swimsuit model,"
Teddy murmured.

	"Yeh, but she does awright without!" Stick grinned.  Teddy nodded.

	Jimmy and Danny reappeared.  "Got six," Jimmy announced, carrying a
stack.  "Danny's going for more."

	"Okay.  Girls change first?"  Amy started handing out towels.  The
other three girls filed by, each taking a towel and going inside.  Amy
entered last, and announced, "You can use the changing room, but I'm not."
She went over to a twin bed in the back of the room -- one that she'd shared
with Jimmy -- and started peeling out of her clothes.  Thelma took Amy's
lead and began disrobing before the other bunk.

	"The things I get myself into," Mary grumbled, ambling over to the
couch and going to work on her own clothing.  Thelma and Amy had obviously
had sex in each other's presence, but Mary didn't know if she wanted to let
the thing blow up into a full-scale orgy; besides, who knew what the others
would make of some of the combinations the three of them got into?  Best
not...

	Darla Jean hopped from foot to foot.  She was the only girl present
who was not technically committed; should she hold onto that?  Or should she
go with the crowd?

	Amy gave her a look, "Up to you..."  The 'You can waste all of our
efforts...' was implied.  Darla Jean headed for a recliner, and started
pulling off her things.


	"Erin!"  Caitlin McGrath exclaimed.  She'd arrived to a darkened
living room and turned on the lights to discover a writhing mass on her
couch.  Under the impact of light and noise, the mass resolved itself into
her daughter and a boy -- both in serious disarray!

	"Mom!  God, what time is it?"  Erin sat up and began adjusting her
clothing.

	"Later than you think, apparently.  Who is this?" her mother asked.

	"This is Toby, Mom," Erin replied, while the boy attempted to
straighten out an even bigger mess.  Erin had undoubtedly had her hand in
his pants, from the way his underwear topped the waistband of his pants, and
his shirt was going to take serious tucking.

	"I see," Caitlin replied.  "And how long have you known each other?"

	"Oh, forever," Erin passed it off, "but we just started dating."

	"You look to be moving pretty quickly..."  Caitlin was trying to
keep from getting shrill; while she and Erin had carefully not discussed it,
Caitlin had it on pretty good authority that Erin was no longer a virgin --
and that she hadn't been any too smart about it.

	"Umm, it looks worse than it was," Toby volunteered, "We were just
necking."

	"JUST necking?" Caitlin pounced.

	"There wasn't any 'just' about it!" Erin replied defiantly, "It was
GREAT!"

	"Yes." "No."  The couple eyed one another and tried again, "No."
"Yes."

	Toby closed his eyes for a moment, then said, "I mean that I believe
that we had both already exceeded expectations for the evening."  He turned
to Erin for confirmation, "Right?"

	"Uh huh."

	Caitlin paused.  What boy came out with 'exceeded expectations'
under this kind of pressure from an adult?  After nearly being caught with
his pants around his ankles?  "Well, it's late.  I think you two should quit
while you're ahead."

	Another surprise.  The boy took this comment better than Erin did,
"Aw, Mom!"

	"She's right.  I didn't plan to be out this late.  Tomorrow?  During
the day?"  Toby diffidently put himself together while nodding at Erin's
mother, headed for the door.  Erin followed, tucking in the back of his
shirt.

	"Okay, call me about noon," Erin replied as they went through the
door.  Caitlin plopped in a chair to await her daughter's return.

	The wait turned out to be protracted; a look through the front
curtains found the pair again clinched, kissing ravenously.  Where on Earth
had this come from?  It took almost ten minutes for the couple to part --
and they were in disarray again when they did.  But Caitlin found that she
couldn't blame the boy for it, as Erin's hands appeared to be more apt to
roam than Toby's.

	Erin was combing her hair with her fingers as she returned to the
living room.  "How long has THIS been going on?" her mother demanded.

	"Umm, what is 'this'?" Erin evaded.

	"This heavy petting thing," Caitlin prodded.

	"Not long," Erin replied.

	"Are you seeing a lot of boys, then?"

	"Umm, no."

	"How many this week?" Caitlin eyed her daughter.

	"Two."

	"That far?"

	"Sorry?"

	"Did you go that far with the other boy?"

	"Umm, the other boy was different.  It didn't work out."  Erin
stepped carefully.  "Hey, how about you ask me how many boys this month?"
Caitlin raised an eyebrow, and Erin answered her own question, "Two."
Belatedly, she remembered Prom night.  Ah, well.  She'd have never gotten a
date without THAT.

	"I hear things," Caitlin said carefully.

	"Lately?"  Jeez, had Mom heard about Randall?

	"I hear you're not too smart about boys."

	"Okay," Erin conceded.  "Well, I'm learning."

	"It didn't look like it," Caitlin muttered.  "What sport is Toby a
jock for?"

	"Huh?"  Erin giggled in surprise.  "Why, none, unless you count
Chess Club."

	"Chess Club?"  Caitlin was stupefied.

	Erin preened.  "Toby's a brain.  I SAID I was learning!"

	Where IQ was concerned, the apple hadn't fallen too far from the
tree in Erin's family -- but Caitlin had an additional two decades of
experience.  Still, Caitlin hadn't learned about jocks until it was too
late...  "Ooookay...  What else have you learned?"

	"Well, I'm, uhh, working on how far to go on the first date -- but,
Toby was making it pretty tough...  He's awful cute!"

	"How have you been doing it?"

	"Well, I used to go with how I felt -- but that didn't seem to work
too well..."

	"Meaning what?"

	"Mom!" Erin erupted, "If you 'hear things' I'm sure you hear I'm not
a virgin!"

	"I hear a good deal worse, I'm afraid," Caitlin responded.  Since
the subject was open, they might as well cover it.

	"Well, most of THAT is probably exaggeration," Erin replied.

	"How many boys have you been with, then?"

	"We're talking sex, here?"

	"Yes!"

	"Four."

	"Only four?"  Caitlin had done worse than that -- MUCH worse!

	"Four!" Erin insisted.

	"And Toby?"

	"Not yet."

	"I'm surprised."

	"Well, you might've stopped it.  I couldn't have held out much
longer."  Erin examined her feet.

	"It looked like YOU were raping HIM, outside!" Caitlin chuckled.

	"Mom!  It's not like YOU don't like it!  Besides, Toby is SOOOO
cute!"

	Erin had her, there.  Caitlin had been a true flower child, and
suffered the downside; Erin had never really had a father.  Experiments with
men who wanted to live with her tended to end disastrously, due to
habitually poor selection criteria and the fact that she was somewhat
homely, so Caitlin had given up.  After two decades, love didn't enter into
it, but Caitlin liked to have her itch scratched periodically, so she'd go
out and collect some character in a bar and let him take her home once every
couple of weeks.  It was still a seller's market, even at almost forty, but
she was on the shelf at Wal-Mart, not Neiman-Marcus, and the partners she
collected reflected the difference in quality.  Other than that, she was
totally independent -- always had been.  From the sound of things, Erin was
doing quite a bit better...  "We probably ought to have the sex talk, Hon.
It was really only four guys?"

	"Uh huh."  The McGrath girls -- both generations -- were always up-
front.  It could be said that they were just unable to lie well, but it was
more a personality trait.

	"Tell me."  Caitlin waved for her daughter to follow and hit the
refrigerator for a soda.  "The rumor mill claims that there were a lot
more."

	"Okay, well, there WAS a fifth, sort of -- Scotty got a hand job to
take me to the Prom."

	Caitlin sighed.  "Why don't you take it from the top?"

	"Okay."  Erin plopped on a kitchen chair and accepted a soda from
her mother.  "Robbie was the first, late last year sometime.  He's a big man
on campus, and I got sucked in.  He's had a lot of girls since, and he
doesn't brag anymore, but he did with me, and that's how I got my
reputation.  Early this year, I got a couple of other jocks, and then it all
kind of stopped -- I didn't know why, but suddenly they all seemed to know
something I didn't, and no one was interested."

	"Did you catch something?"

	"No, that wasn't it.  I couldn't figure it out.  Anyway, recently, I
got wind that one of the super-brainy types was actually seriously hot in
bed.  I didn't see us like, going out, but I figured I could at least
discover what 'good in bed' was, since aside from Rob, things hadn't been
any too impressive.  Well, it turns out he WAS good -- and he helped ME out,
too!"

	"Oh?" Caitlin was mystified.

	"Uh huh.  In the first place, he made it absolutely incredible --
I'd never gotten a cum before, that way.  And then he, well, offered
suggestions to keep me from screwing up."

	"Like what?"

	Erin blushed.  "I was just laying there, soaking it up.  I thought
not moving made things easier.  Come to find out, that gets you labeled a
dead lay..."

	"Oh."  Caitlin had gotten sex-ed at group parties; with the example
of other girls before her, lying still had never occurred to her.  But Erin
was a product of a more up-tight generation...

	"Added to that, I'm kinda slow to start...  I almost wore the guy
out, and he was a machine!  He told me that some girls just have to have
their, uh, clit worked on, and it was no shame to do myself -- that made a
BIG difference!  I really just needed a jump-start to get me to the point
where I could finish..."

	Erin's mother absorbed this; it was new information.  Success at
achieving orgasm had always been hit or miss with her -- maybe this was
why...  "And Toby?"

	"One of my girlfriends suggested him.  She's as big as a house, but
she has TWO steady boyfriends, and they share her, so I figure she might
know a thing or two.  Anyway, I learned that smart guys tend to be a lot
nicer and not so selfish -- but the guy I saw that time was, well, TOO
smart.  No way we were going to make it.  Toby is on the high end, but he's
not Superbrain, so we at least have SOME things in common -- and kissing him
was a REAL SURPRISE!" Erin grinned.

	 Caitlin sighed.  "Honey, I don't know what to tell you at this
point, since I suck so bad at relationships.  I don't really think it's fair
to tie a rope around a boy's neck before you have sex with him the first
time, but maybe you ought to look to see if there is SOMETHING else besides
the physical attraction..."

	"Well, Mom, I'm feeling some romance, here.  Okay, I thought I felt
romance with Rob, and it turned out differently, but I haven't really pushed
that end of things, since.  Toby, well, he doesn't seem to be greedy..."

	"Do you seem to have anything else?  Sex will GET you a guy, but it
seems to take other things to KEEP one..." Caitlin murmured.

	"Well, Toby doesn't think with his dick -- or at least not all the
time!" Erin chuckled.  "I think early on it was about the chase, but then I
kind of baited him a bit.  But then we reached a point where -- I don't know
-- it wasn't just about whether he was going to get some anymore."

	"You two were pretty far along when I walked in!"

	"Yeah, but neither of us was consciously trying!  The big thing we
were doing was kissing; only when we came up for air would we discover that
he had his hand on my ass, or I was under his shirt...  Sex was a side
issue.  Oh, it wouldn't have been, if we'd actually gotten there, but we
were doing fine, and I KNOW he wasn't consciously trying to get into my
pants any more than I was consciously trying to get into his!  It was more
like feeling skin made the kisses better..."  Erin shook her head.
"Whatever it is we're doing, it's natural.  I'll look for more tomorrow, but
this IS more than just sex."

	"Hmmmmm," Caitlin replied.  "Ever hear of the three date rule?"

	"Yeah," Erin eyed her mother warily.  "I already asked him if he
thought I was easy..."

	Caitlin cackled.  "And he said no, right?"

	"Not really -- not like that.  He actually thought about it."

	"He did?"  Caitlin stopped short.

	"Uh huh.  I was expecting 'Sure, Baby, blah, blah, blah...' and I
got silence.  It was weird.  So I asked him what was up, and he said
something like he hadn't really gotten to the point of planning anything, he
was just going with the flow.  So I asked him flat out if he was going to
ask me for another date if I said no, and he said yeah -- and the way he
said it, I believed him."  Erin grinned.  "There's another reason I believe
him, too; really smart guys seldom have girlfriends because they don't know
what to say to them."

	"You're probably right," her mother agreed.  "Got any idea why?"

	"Ummmm, I think it's because regular guys use the same old lines
that have worked forever -- but smart guys see other possibilities, and they
trip all over themselves trying to figure out what will really work.  Toby
plays chess you know." Erin added.

	"Uh huh.  Interesting idea.  What does chess have to do with it?"
Caitlin asked.

	"It's a real complex game.  You have to think and plan, or you lose.
Toby lost the game he was playing at Chess Club tonight just because I was
there, distracting him.  I think regular guys are like jocks -- they go with
the standard playbook.  But smart guys try to make up a playbook as they go
along, trying to plan in advance and do things that will get a girl's
attention.  And generally it doesn't work because girls are expecting the
standard stuff, so smart guys look weird.  You see?" Erin asked, proud of
her analysis.

	"Ummm, yeah.  Interesting.  Weird, but it makes sense, sort of.  So
how do you plan to deal with it?"

	"By giving him the benefit of the doubt.  I'll have to think about
things when he comes at me weird.  But I'm not too worried, because there is
another advantage to smart guys," Erin murmured, pleased with herself, "You
see, I don't think they lie."

	"No?" Caitlin was dubious.

	"Uh uh.  I could be wrong, and I'm sure they COULD lie, but it gets
in the way of what they're trying to do -- especially the way they're trying
to do it.  A regular guy will lie because lying works -- if that's what it
takes, no problem.  Heck, they're bad at it, anyway -- they get by because
the girls are kidding themselves more than anything else.  It's kind of a
conspiracy; they do it, and we KNOW they do it, but we give them credit for
doing things the right way.  But smart guys are trying to prove they're a
better choice -- and lying doesn't make you any better.  It's like if you
ask a guy to do something for you.  A regular guy will do it, but he's
likely to try to make you feel like you owe him.  Smart guys will do it no
strings attached, HOPING you'll feel like you owe them!"

	"Wow!  Where did you come up with this stuff?"  This was ALL news to
Caitlin.

	"I dunno.  I'm on a roll.  Some of it is from talks with Mary --
when she talks about stuff, it's like she gets in a boy's head or something.
How else could she keep TWO boyfriends?  But some of it is just from looking
around...  Some of it is from experience..."  Erin shook her head.  "The
smart guy was the only one I ever had sex with who was reluctant from the
start.  You know why?  He didn't want to string me along!  Is that weird, or
what?"

	"Ummmm..."  Was Erin right?  As wild as this stuff sounded, it had
this ring to it...  "So, like, geeky Howard, who goes out and gets my lunch
every couple of days, and always brings back exact change..."

	"... Just might be Mr. Perfect," Erin nodded.

	Caitlin thought about it, shook her head.  No way!  She just
couldn't imagine it!  "Probably hung like a squirrel..."

	Erin eyed her mother sidelong, "The smart guy was this long -- and
he knew how to use it!"  The measurement Erin marked off with her hands
wasn't scientific, but it was in the vicinity.  "You can't tell by
looking..."

	"Well, THAT's true!" her mother agreed.  "All right, I won't lean on
this Toby -- but you be careful, okay?"

	"Thanks, Mom."


	"Hey!  Easy!"  Tabitha was sucking Paul's cock like she was trying
to remove it from his crotch!

	"Oh, sorry, Baby -- I'm used ta workin' through a rubber.  Hows
this?"  Tabitha slipped her mouth back over his length.

	"Man!"  Suddenly, his cock was in a warm, bath, being massaged from
the bottom by the flat of her soft, flexible tongue.  "That's great!"

	Tabitha worked it a moment; obviously, deep throating it wasn't
anything difficult for her from the way she was backing off to the tip and
then absorbing his length to the root.  Backing off, she asked, "What about
the stud, Stud?"

	"I don't think you need it," Paul gasped.  "Maybe it'd improve
things if I was wearing a rubber, but like this?"  He shook his head.

	Tabitha dove on his length a few more times, backed off, and looked
up.  "You wanna finish like this, or can we move on to the main event?"

	"I'm not gonna last worth a damn either way," Paul grunted.  The
mouth work was incredible, and if the pussy was anything like it...

	"Gimme, then.  We'll get it back up for the second go..."  Tabitha's
soft lips rolled over Paul's glans and kept going.  When she got to the
root, Tabitha produced another surprise, somehow managing to extend her
tongue and lap at the sensitive hairs at the base of Paul's scrotum.

	Paul couldn't help it; he buried his hand in her kinky curls and
held her there.  Tabitha didn't struggle; she merely continued her work
until he mastered himself and let up, then backed off, eyes on his, smiling.
When her lips were kissing his crown, she took a breath through her nose,
whirled her tongue around the tip, and went for the root again.  Paul stood
there, his fists clenching and unclenching.  When she came off this time,
she murmured, "Go ahead and use me, Baby -- it's okay, I won't break."

	"I don't see how I could improve on what you're doing," Paul hissed.

	"Mebbe, but it's nice bein' in control, ain't it?"  Tabitha smiled
slyly while she lapped Paul's tip.  Paul groaned, gave in and took her head
in both hands, guiding her back onto his length.  His control was still
nominal, but it was there as he gently tuned her efforts.  Tabitha went a
few more strokes, gave him this look, and adopted a corkscrewing motion that
drove Paul rigid.  "Gonna shoot!" he hissed.

	Tabitha merely clutched his ass to make sure he wasn't going
anywhere.  "GNNNNNNGH!" Paul grunted as what seemed like five gallons of
spunk roared up from the base of his cock and pulsed right down Tabitha's
throat.  "HOLY SHIT!"  His vision whited out and his ears roared while his
cock pulsed heavily a half-dozen times.

	When it was over, he stood there, weak-kneed, while Tabitha pulled
back, grinning.  "You was savin' that up a while, wasn't you, Honey?"  Paul
could only nod.  "Good stuff, too!  Rich and creamy!  Howcum you ain't got
no kids, shootin' THAT stuff?"

	"Birth control," Paul managed.  He turned around and settled onto
the bed next to Tabitha, sitting before his knees gave way totally.

	"That's too bad, Honey," Tabitha replied.  "Cock like that, you
oughta have two women fightin' over it an' a half-dozen little crumb
snatchers comin' up to service the next generation!"

	Paul laughed.  "What a bunch of shit!  Do you say that crap to
johns?"

	Tabitha shrugged.  "Stuff like it, if I think they need it.  First
time I ever come out wit' THAT one, though."  She eyed him, "I'm a fuckup of
a mother, an' I had myself fixed after Nate, or I'd punch out some brats fer
ya, jus' ta keep your head all puffed up."

	Paul shook his head.  "You're insane.  Why on Earth do you keep
throwing yourself at me?"

	Tabitha shrugged.  "Dunno.  Mebbe you're wearin' some 'a that after
shave that drives women wild?  Or mebbe deodorant?"  She proceeded to stick
her nose in his left armpit, snorting.

	Paul barked laughter, pushing her back onto the bed.  "That
tickles!"

	Tabitha's eyes were serious when his met them, though.  "Does it
matter, really?  Suck my titties, Paul.  Make love to me."

	Paul was a quart low, and just off one of his most powerful orgasms
in recent memory, but the woman was asking...  He latched onto a nipple and
started working it with his lips and tongue.  "Oooh!  That's nice!" Tabitha
moaned, clutching his head to her chest.  He brought up a hand to engage the
other nipple, gently manipulating it and the stud that pierced it, and
Tabitha moaned, "Lordy, I gotta rub my clit on somethin'!"

	Paul shifted a bit, and Tabitha began literally humping his leg.
Mauling her nipples brought an unbearable itch to her clit.  "Goddam!  I
haven't had this much fun since..."  She trailed off; thinking was too much
work.  "Aaahh!  Shit!  Please get hard, Baby!  Stroke my insides for me!"

	Somewhat to Paul's surprise, when her hand found his cock, it was
already hard again.  Tabitha rubbed her hand over the bulbous head, and it
became fully apparent that it was useable, so Paul murmured, "Now?"

	"Oh, yeah, Baby!  Gimmee!"  Tabitha splayed her legs and guided the
tip toward her opening.

	But it wasn't going to work -- their position on the bed didn't
allow it.  When Paul found his head being pulled away from her nipple while
he doubled over for the insertion, he discovered that there was just no way!
"Slide up on the bed and spread 'em!" he demanded.

	Tabitha was more than willing to oblige, crab-walking back onto the
bed and raising her knees.  Her nether lips opened, displaying her shocking
pink center to Paul as he crawled up behind her, intent on making the
insertion before it went down again.

	Paul needn't have worried; as he settled the tip of his cock against
her opening, Tabitha's cunt did something Paul had never before experienced;
her vagina flowered open to accept him, then clamped on his shaft as he sank
inside.  Paul was amazed; usually insertion was a fight, then the woman's
tunnel loosened around him while he stroked -- sometimes too much for either
of them to enjoy properly.  Tabitha's tunnel seemed to clasp him all along
his rigid length, creating powerful sensations.  "Wow!  How do you do that?"

	Tabitha managed a tight grin, "Told ya it was educated!"

	Paul settled himself as high as possible in order to get into
contact with Tabitha's clit and began to stroke.  Tabitha, who would
normally have thrown her pelvis forward, arched her back to shift his angle
and improve things.  Paul took it easy for a few moments, then asked, "How's
that?"

	"It's good, Baby," Tabitha cooed.  "Go ahead and pick it up.  Bang
the shit outta me!"

	Paul did as he was asked.  The position -- or the adjustments to it,
since it was basically the missionary position -- had Tabitha's pubic bone
rubbing the top of his cock while he worked at bashing her clit, as well as
a continuance of her tight clasp; Paul was grateful for the oral attention
he'd gotten, because if he'd entered her fresh, he'd have only lasted a
couple of strokes.  "How's this?"

	"It's good, Baby -- damn good!" Tabitha gasped -- and it was, but
she wasn't sure she was going to cum again.  Her twat was a little tender,
but it wasn't sore, thank God...

	Paul wanted to add to things, but he was taller than Tabitha and
couldn't really get anything into position.  If he rose up to attack her
tits, he'd lose contact with her clitoris...  "Play with your nipples!" he
directed.

	"Uh, 'kay," Tabitha grunted.  She'd wanted to, but habit said you
didn't do anything that told a john that he might not be performing well.
Twisting and pulling her nipples flashed fire across her senses.

	"Get yours, Woman -- it's what we're here for!" Paul directed.
"I'll get mine, don't you worry!  Stop treating me like a john and get
happy!"

	"Okay!" Tabitha panted, "I'm goin' to loosen up jus' a little bit,
Baby, so it ain't so much work..."  She did so, but it was merely
incremental as far as Paul was concerned; things were still pretty amazing.
The friction went down just enough that the effort involved in stroking her
tight tunnel reduced markedly; loose, it wasn't, by ANY means!  He continued
to slam away, the feel of her clasping tunnel giving him all the incentive
he needed to continue until his hips failed, if necessary.

	Tabitha realized she'd been habitually milking him like she would a
john, trying to get him to orgasm quickly.  Avoiding habit and remembering
that she was there to have fun was difficult, but rewarding -- Paul was
doing a helluva job!  She wondered if she should diddle...  Her hand
released her right nipple and stole down her belly.

	"I got it," Paul gasped and rose up.  This pulled him away from her
clit, as expected, but it allowed him to put his hand on her pubes and drop
his thumb over the hood of her stiff clit.

	"Oh, holy shit!" Tabitha moaned as her hand returned to her nipple,
"I think you're strokin' my G-spot!"  Most of Tabitha's wriggling to date
had been internal; now, her knees began alternately clasping his sides and
dropping loose to the tune of her internal imperatives.  Paul tuned his
stroke to her pulsations and Tabitha started drawing air in short pants,
"Oh, Lordy!  I got one comin'! Big 'un!"  The questions in Tabitha's mind
changed from 'if' to 'when' and 'how big', and the answers were drifting off
the scale in either direction as her orgasm seemed to grow as it rushed up
on her.  Paul, working above her, watched as her eyes widened to the point
that the whites showed all around the irises before she screamed "OH
GAWWWD!" and they rolled up as she grabbed her knees and pushed her pelvis
up toward him.  In the process, she amazed him again; the pulsations of her
vagina as she thundered through her orgasm were the most intense he'd ever
experienced!  Paul had ridden what he considered to be good pussy -- and not
felt anything special during an orgasm, except maybe a general increase in
tightness.  Tabitha's vaginal grip stopped his movement but replaced it with
a rolling massage that he just couldn't resist...

	"WHUUUUHHH!" he grunted, pressing himself deep and kicking off his
second giant cum in twenty minutes, something he didn't even think he could
do in the first place!

	"Oooooo, that's nice, Baby!" Tabitha cooed breathlessly, "I can FEEL
that!  That's SOOO nice!"  Paul held himself above her on weakened arms,
gasping; Tabitha reached up to pull him down, murmuring, "C'mere, Baby and
give Mama a kiss..."  The pair merged lips and Paul drifted off marveling
disconnectedly at how soft Tabitha's were.  Tabitha barely lasted long
enough to notice how limp he was before she faded out, too.
<1st attachment end>


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