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From: Thinking Horndog <im_a_thinker@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Strange Relationships 41/61 {Thinking Horndog} (MF oral mast)
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Date: Thu, 13 Apr 2006 02:10:05 -0400
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Chapter 41...

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

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<1st attachment, "Strange_Rel_41.txt" begin>

Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Strange Relationships
Part: 41
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples from Second
Best and their families.
Keywords: MF oral mast

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 41
Various Negotiations

	Ed slammed his door then stood in the middle of the room rubbing the
shoulder he'd nearly jerked out of it's socket propelling Velma into the
room.  "Awright, so,where were we?  Oh, yeah  What the fuck you doin' makin'
itty bitty taps on my door at this hour in a nightie?"

	"Ah already tol' ya -- Ah wanna know if'n yo' goin' be bustin' inta
mah rooms agin' any time soon!"

	"So, are ya beggin' or complainin'?  You was takin' your time
answerin'..."

	Velma manufactured outrage, standing with her hands on her hips, "A
gal cain't be answerin' a question lahk dat!  Neithah one, Ah guess..."

	Ed eyed the big woman in disbelief.  "But you needed to know so bad
you come to my place in a nightie?  Shit, half the household is gonna know
by mornin'!"

	"Fook."  Velma looked away.

	"Yeah, just exactly," Ed grunted.  "Ya pretty well tipped your hand,
ya silly bitch."  NOW, what the fuck?  "I'm gonna assume you're beggin'..."
What kind of bullshit story was he gonna have to come up with to get her out
of his hair?

	Velma opened her mouth to give vent to outrage, then shut it.  After
a moment, she sighed, "Waal, Ah ain't too good at dis shit.  No practice."

	Ed grunted.  "Me neither.  We're a fine fuckin' pair..."

	"Mebbe Ah oughta go..."

	"Naw.  Phillippe's probably all alert over there -- you come poppin'
outta here, an' you might as well put up a billboard.  Park your ass on the
couch fer a bit -- we'll watch the tube until shit settles down.  Wanna
beer?"

	"Ah cain't drink.  Makes me stupid."  Ed just eyed her.  "Yah,
awright.  One, mebbe."  She settled her frame on the couch -- which suddenly
seemed to shrink.

	Ed headed for the refrigerator, cudgeling his brain.  What he OUGHT
to do was put her big ass out in the hall like Fred Flintstone did to Dino,
dust his hands and call it a night!  Instead, her big ass was parked on his
couch, and he was crackin' her a beer -- like he was tryin' to seduce her,
or somethin'...  He pulled two cans of Bud out of the fridge and stood there
a moment, looking at her.  That silly-assed nightshirt squashed her big jugs
against her body to the point that you couldn't see anything else, with her
seated like that; her heavy thighs covered her twat, even with her knees
open some -- no way he could tell from here if she was wearin' panties --
she'd have to spread 'em WIDE...  That cunt, though -- it was probably the
smallest thing on her, and it was some of the best shit he'd ever poked!
Idly, he wondered if he could convince her to up some ass, too...

	"Whatchew lookin at?" Velma asked, looking up from the TV.

	"You're takin' up mosta that direction," Ed rasped.  "Want any
chips, or anything?"

	"Ah shouldn't eat."

	'No shit!'  Ed brought the cans over and popped the tops, handing
Velma hers, then wedged himself in on her left.

	Velma took a sip and wrinkled her nose, "Dis is dog piss!"

	"Yeah."  Ed shrugged.  "I'm jus' leachin' the alcohol out of it, an'
I drink quite a bit, so I go cheap."

	"Y'all a boozer, den?"  Velma eyed him sidelong.

	"Naw, just need something to put me ta sleep."

	"Dey's otha things..."

	'Like pussy?'  "I don't do pills."

	Velma grunted -- almost screwed that one up.  "Whatchew watchin'
heah?"

	"Dunno."  Ed shrugged.  He'd been surfing.  "I like movies.  Network
shit is, well, shit.  But I come on this in the middle."  He'd been planning
on checking out that edgy series about a cathouse on HBO in a few...  Now,
who knew?  Here he was, in his own place, leaned up and holdin' his beer
with both hands sittin' next to a hippo, explaining his TV viewing habits...
He settled back and gingerly draped his right arm on the couch back.

	Velma gave him a glance and took up a deeper slouch.  Dammit!  If
she was a regular gal, he'd be able ta get at a nipple with a li'l work!
But her tits was squashed down an' her nipples was down next to her belly
button...  How da fook was she gonna give him anythin'?  "Dis thing looks
romantical."

	Ed hadn't REALLY planned to go fooling with her -- he was just
trying to get comfortable on his chunk of couch!  But there she was, doin'
her best to roll out the welcome mat...  Silly bitch was TOTALLY
transparent!  "I don't do romance, but I can watch others do it."  Of
course, he REALLY hit the booze when he did -- loneliness could be a real
bitch...

	"Yah.  Me, too."

	They sat there for a bit, Velma watching the movie but waiting for
Ed to do something, and Ed wrestling with himself.  If he messed with the
silly hippo, she'd probably get all lovey-dovey, and he'd look like a
goddamn idiot.  On the other hand, having access to that juicy cunt on a
regular basis...  What was the old saw about fat women? 'Heat in winter,
shade in summer, and a soft place to lay down year 'round...'  How bad was
she, really?  She wasn't ugly; she was black, and sometimes black girls
didn't do it for him, but she didn't have any of the things that usually
shut him down...  She was fuckin' huge, but he'd really had no problem
working around that the other night...  Apparently, she'd enjoyed it, or she
wouldn't be sittin' here...  Everything negative about the situation seemed
to have to do with admitting they were fucking in public -- and it was BOUND
to get out!  It was kinda like riding a Honda -- great until your Harley-
riding friends found out...  Could she keep it under wraps?  And for how
long?  Awww, fuck -- he was kiddin' himself -- it'd be all over the house in
a couple of days, and he'd start takin' shit.  On the other hand, it was
probably out there, already, so he might as well enjoy the benefits...  A
lot of the downside had to do with 'relationship shit' -- he didn't know how
to be nice to a woman, and he was too old to start learning!  To date, all
of Ed's 'relationships' had been more or less cash and carry -- it's all he
REALLY had any experience with!  Oh, sure, he'd picked up a few desperate
bitches in bars at one time or another -- so he knew what things could
degenerate to -- but mostly it was hookers and such.  Hand her some cash,
climb on, stroke 'til it feels good, and 'Bye, Honey.  Come back when you
have more money!'  The Boss was good about importing some talent every
couple months -- Hell, then you didn't even have to pay for it!  Velma
wasn't likely to act like that -- and that brought complications.  Maybe
they could set ground rules...

	All of this back and forth rumination took a bit.  In the meantime,
Velma was pulling at her beer, and Ed's right hand found her neck and her
springy hair.  The movie had moved into the obligatory revealed lies,
misunderstandings, and unrequited love; Velma's eyes were wet.  Ed grunted,
"About here, I go looking for a sex flick.  I ain't no better at it, but it
don't tear up your guts..."

	"Yah?  Mebbe..."

	Ed changed the channel to the sexual documentary.  "You came for
dick, anyway, didn't ya?"

	"Why yo' gotta make me say that?"  Velma eyed him sidelong.  "Y'all
KNOW the answer!"

	"It's kind of an honesty thing."

	"Y'all jus' wanna be able ta laugh..."  She tilted up the can, "Got
any more dog piss?  If Ah'm gonna say shit lahk dat, Ah need ta be able ta
blame it on sumpthin'."  Ed chuckled and headed for the refrigerator, and
Velma added, "Y'all ain't honest, eithah.  You could'a left mah ass standin'
in da hall, but ya didn't.  Ah ain't sittin' here 'cause of no Phillippe."

	Ed sighed and kicked the refrigerator door closed, heading back to
the couch.  "Okay, so, maybe I'm a chicken-shit, but you don't pass it up,
ever, ESPECIALLY when you get to be my age.   My two heads been arguin' ever
since you come through the door, but the li'l one is sneaky and keeps
pushin' things out.  The flip side is I'm too fuckin' old to learn to be
romantical, an' I figure you're gonna start havin' expectations..."

	"Huh."  Velma took the offered beer.  "So, if'n Ah'll jus' admit ta
bein' a slut, y'all can put yoah conscience away an' fook, dat right?"  She
eyed him dubiously.

	Ed deflated.  "Yah, somethin' like that."

	"An' if'n Ah don' wanna do dat?"

	Ed re-parked his ass on the sofa, "Well, shit gets harder."

	Velma sighed and shook her head.  'A gal's gotta have some self-
respect...' she thought to herself.  It looked like she could choose between
it and Ed's dick, dammit...  Suddenly, inspiration dawned.  Pretending to be
absorbed in the banter of a half-clad whore enticing a john on the TV
screen, she cracked the beer -- but it was tilted, and a serious quantity
glugged all over the front of her nightie!  "Aw SHIT!"  She jumped up and
leaned forward, trying to keep the wet area off her skin.  "DAMN!  Now Ah'm,
soaked, Ah smell lahk beer, an' Ah ain't got nuthin' ta change inta!"

	Ed hopped up, too, and stood there, looking stupid.  There was NO
WAY that nightie was going to clear her tits, even bent over; instead, he
got a view of miles-deep cleavage that was even more revealed by the
transparency of the wet cotton nightdress.  "Uh, I'll go get a towel..."

	"Best get a blanket -- a towel won't EVEN cover MAH ass!  Ah'll go
inta da bathroom an' wait, den when y'all bring it, Ah'Il shuck outta dis
thing an' wash it in da sink.  Y'all are stuck wit' me 'til it dries..."

	Velma headed for the bathroom, leaving Ed standing there, realizing
that, deliberate or not, he'd been out-maneuvered; if she stayed the night,
they'd fuck -- end of story.  And she WOULDN'T have to make any damaging
admissions!  Well, he'd just have to be careful...  He headed for his
bedroom and jerked the thin cotton blanket off the bed, then rapped on the
bathroom door and immediately stuck his head in, "Got the blanket."

	Velma was still wearing the nightie.  "Ah KNEW you was gonna try ta
peep on me, ya ol' bastid!  Hurry up an' gimme dat thing, Ah'm beginnin' ta
smell lahk a brewery!"

	Ed grinned and handed over the blanket, then returned to the couch.
Velma had apparently soaked up most of the beer -- there was very little on
the couch.  He swabbed it off with a towel, then headed for the bedroom
where he shucked out of his sweats and boxers, then put the sweats back on.
Might as well give up and go for the gusto -- and that included making the
whole thing a bit easier.  The sweatshirt came off, too, replaced by  T-
shirt with a beer ad on it; things were likely to get warm...

	Velma was grinning from ear to ear as she cleaned up in the
bathroom.  NOW, she'd get it, for sure -- an' she WOULDN'T have to make any
damaging admissions!  'Ah GOT dat ole bastid DIS time!' she thought
gleefully to herself.  Humming, she rinsed the nightie and threw it over the
shower curtain bar to dry, then washed herself with a washrag and Ed's
deodorant soap, not only hitting the beery spots, but her armpits, cleavage,
under her big jugs, and around her cooze and ass.  She patted some areas dry
with his bath towel, but figured she'd better let her cooze and pits air
dry, or she'd hear about how she made the towel stink.  The ole bastid was
pretty predictable like that...  Finally, she wrapped herself in the
blanket, choosing to hold it behind her, rather than in front; that way, she
could just cover herself on the couch, rather than remaining wrapped up.

	Emerging from the bathroom, Velma noted Ed's change of shirt, "Did
Ah spill some on ya?"

	"Naw, I just figured that if you were gonna be wrapped in a blanket,
you was gonna get hot -- and since I'm sittin' next to ya..."

	"Y'all probly right."  Velma moved over and prepared to park,
fluffing the blanket and seating herself while it draped, granting a
momentary glimpse of her big chocolate shanks as she did so.  "Ah cain't be
wrappin' mahself in dis thing -- Ah'd broil!  Ah gotta jus' hide under
it..." She passed Ed a sly glance; the blanket draped over him, too, as it
settled -- as expected.

                         --------------------

	But of course that wasn't the only odd activity going on in the
bachelor apartments.  Leticia had taken some time and great pains to arrive
in the hallway outside Boris' door unobserved -- especially since anyone who
observed her would see ALL of her!  Now, huddling there to minimize her
exposure, she timorously knocked on the big Georgian's door.

	Boris was sitting on his couch, a towel girdling his waist.  He'd
bathed about an hour before, then gone down and enjoyed a bit of time in the
hot tub, which reminded him of the public baths at home, despite the fact
that his enjoyment was regularly solitary.  Now, it was late, so he was
plopped on his couch nursing a bottle of vodka and watching soft porn; in a
bit, he'd probably ease the pressure in his heavy balls before hitting the
sack.  Since it was Friday, and the Boss wasn't entertaining some noisy
slut, things would probably get off to a slow start in the morning and he
could sleep in until seven or so.  Otherwise, it was just another day at the
dacha...

	But there was a knock at his door, and a female voice calling his
name -- when had THAT ever happened before?  Maybe the Boss wanted
something...  Boris got up, scratching his shaggy chest, and shuffled to the
door, "Da?"

	"Oh, thank God!  Let me in, PLEASE!"  It was the little negress,
Leticia, and she was VERY naked!

	Boris stood back to let her pass without thinking about it.  "Where
are your clothes?"  He stood there, holding the door open while he glowered
at her.  "Are you playing a game?  A joke on old Boris?  I do not feel like
playing games -- I'm not dressed for it."

	"Mr. Wilson has my clothes," Leticia whimpered.  "Please close the
door!"

	Boris stuck his head out into the hallway and glanced around warily;
the hallway was deserted.  Withdrawing, he closed the door, then turned to
Leticia.  "Why do you trouble Boris?  Why not Phillippe, or Pete, or Ed?
Why Boris?"

	"I was sent here," Leticia replied.

	"I do not understand."  Boris continued to glower, and it was a more
or less fearsome thing to stand before it.

	Leticia shivered a moment, then gathered herself.  "Let me explain."
Boris waved his hands, indicating that she should continue.  "I offended Mr.
Wilson tonight.  He became very angry with me over some things I said and
did in the presence of his daughter's friends.  He-he had Miz Sharon sex me
with a dildo, and then he sent me to you."

	"And what am I to do with you, eh?" Boris asked.

	"You're to use me..."

	"For what?" Boris scoffed, "Sex?  A skinny, brittle thing like you?
Boris break you in half!"

	"It is what Mr. Wilson wants!  Call Charles!  He'll tell you!"

	"You stand there!  Do not move.  I will call Charles, and if you
lie..."  Boris lumbered to his house phone and punched for Charles.
"Charles?  It is Boris..."
	"You have a visitor?" Charles cut him off.

	"Da, the negress -- she is..."

	"I know all about it, Boris.  Is she still naked?"

	"Da."

	"Mr. Wilson has given her to you to use for the night.  She spouted
a bunch of racist comments, and Mr. Wilson wants her well used, to teach her
her place."

	"Used?  As in sex?"

	"Yes.  Use any hole you wish -- her mouth, her useless cunt, her ass
-- keep her all night.  Fill her full of white spunk.  If she gives you any
crap, slap her around a bit -- but don't do any permanent damage.
Understand?"

	"Da."

	"This is punishment; don't think you have to do anything to make her
happy.  It should all go the other way.  Call me in the morning and tell me
how she did -- if it wasn't satisfactory, I'm instructed to mete out further
punishment," Charles added.  "All right?"

	"Da."

	"Hand her the phone."

	Boris stuck out the phone, "Take this.  Talk to Charles."

	Leticia collected it gingerly, "Yes?"

	"You're to spend the night.  See to it that he's happy; if you
don't, he has my permission to slap you around.  I'm sure you realize that
that authority comes from Mr. Wilson himself.  By the way, what took you so
long?"

	"I didn't want to be seen."

	Charles chuckled, and Leticia shivered.  Nothing good could come of
THAT sound...  "Go service your white man!"  Charles hung up.

	Leticia put down the phone.  Boris's truculence was gone; in its
place, a lascivious gleam lit his eyes.  "So, you do not lie -- but you do
not tell all, either!  You are Boris's slave for the night -- ALL night!
Boris may not break you, but anything less...  Come here!"  Leticia stepped
forward, and he grasped her biceps and shook her, "Drop the hands!"

	Leticia did as she was told.  Lord, he was so strong!  The shake
made her teeth rattle!

	Boris looked disgusted, "Skinny model types!  Little, tiny titties!
No meat on your bones!  You cannot handle REAL sex -- you probably do not
know what real sex is!  You cannot take a man!"  Boris pounded his chest to
make his point.

	Leticia got the point; this wasn't a man -- Boris was a bear!  Huge,
hairy -- even on his back! -- shambling, barrel-chested...  A bear!

	Boris hauled downward on the arm, and Leticia's knees collapsed.
"Open the towel," he grunted.  "Suck!"

	Leticia did as she was told, exposing Boris's still limp phallus and
heavy balls.  Boris grabbed her head and dragged it to his crotch, grunting,
"You will drink from Boris's fountain tonight; you should be at least as
good at sucking my essence as your sister, the Wench!"

	The Wench!  That white slut?  Boris was going to compare her to the
Wench?  "But she's a slave!"

	Boris glowered, "At least SHE KNOWS what she IS!  SUCK, worthless
slut!  You, too, are slave!"

	Crestfallen, Leticia took in Boris's uncut length.  It wasn't much
at first, but almost immediately, it began to grow and thicken -- mostly
thicken!  Soon, it was racking her jaws and she was struggling to work it
without choking.  So thick!  Amazing!

	Boris had one hand in her hair and was mauling her right nipple with
the other.  "You need to have children -- if you give suck to a baby or two,
maybe these tiny things will fatten up, eh?  Push back the foreskin and work
in the tip!  Yessss..."  He stood there a moment, savoring her efforts, then
pulled her head back by the grip he had on her hair, "I am tired of
standing.  We will go to the couch."  Boris was pretty sure what the Boss
wanted, so he maintained his grip on Leticia's hair, controlling her with it
while he moved to the couch, enjoying the power play.

	The hair-pulling didn't hurt Leticia as much as it might have
because Boris had a good handful, and Leticia wasn't fighting him, at all!
The realization that the hairy giant could rip her to pieces quelled all
resistance, firming her resolve to give him everything Mr. Wilson (she'd
long since stopped thinking of him as Armand -- now he was Mr. Wilson, or in
her private thoughts, Master) demanded of her.  She barked her knees as
Boris crash-landed on the couch, dragging her with him, but the accompanying
exclamation just meant that her mouth was open when he again dropped it over
his thick, uncut meat.  "Such big, thick, soft lips," Boris grunted.  "You
should do this more often."

	"Mmmph."  It was agreement.  Leticia pushed back his foreskin with
her lips and dug her tongue in the exposed surfaces.  Boris was a little bit
gamey, but that seemed to add to things.  The involuntary nature of the act
had Leticia wet, wild, and willing; she braced her forearms on the couch
alongside his tree-trunk legs and used her mouth to make love to his hard,
fat length.

	Boris couldn't remember having enjoyed himself so much, even as a
young man!  The negress' mouth was superb, and the feeling of power granted
by the situation enhanced things tremendously!  Things were quickly coming
to a head...  "Da...  Da...  I shoot now -- you swallow every drop, eh?  You
drink from Boris."  Felicia locked eyes with him, watching carefully as he
began to rumble and shake, pulling back a bit, but working her tongue under
his foreskin to tease the sensitive glans.  "Da... DA!  Swallow, whore!"
The head of Boris's cock swelled to the point that Leticia didn't think she
could get it out past her teeth as she watched his heavy balls rise and
pulse, followed instantly by an even bigger pulse along his shaft and a gout
of thick, gooey semen.

	Leticia had read somewhere that, tall tales to the contrary, the
average ejaculation was less than a tablespoon; Boris beat THAT with his
first shot, and he fired off four before settling back to a dribble.
Leticia swallowed, and swallowed again, "Gooo..."  Lordy!  He was a monster!
He had balls like a horse!

	"Da," Boris grunted satisfaction and settled back.  "You drink from
Boris a few times, maybe you get to be a big girl, eh?  Maybe Boris make
your belly big, too!  Put some milk in these..."  He reached out to maul her
small breasts with his big, hard hands.  "Climb up here," he patted the
couch seat, "head toward there," pointing at the couch arm, "and spread your
legs.  "I want to see your cat -- your pussy, nyet?"  Leticia climbed onto
the couch and knelt up, facing the indicated direction, but Boris growled,
"Nyet!  Nyet!  On your back!  Spread your legs!"

	After a few rapid adjustments, Leticia found herself on her back
with one leg propped over the couch back watching the big groundskeeper
grope her with his calloused hand.  Sliding a thick finger along her gash,
he picked up moisture and inserted it in her tunnel, muttering, "Eh, you are
wet!  You like drinking Boris's essence, then, slut?"

	"Y-yes!"  Leticia was excited beyond all reason, frankly!  The whole
thing made very little sense; she'd come in contact with the big -- Russian?
-- something like that -- on a number of occasions, and considered him to be
merely boorish and not worthy of her attention.  But here, under THESE
conditions, a very different Boris had emerged.  While he no doubt had been
physically imposing all along, she'd never noticed, because he had always
operated in the background, not exerting himself to the point of attracting
her attention.  Tonight, however, normal rules of conduct did not apply --
and Boris took charge of her fate with an ease that was positively
frightening -- and terribly exciting!  Leticia knew that she would never
view him the old way again...

	Boris continued to work a thick digit in her cunt.  "Maybe you look
forward to feeling my -- how you say?"  He grasped his still-erect cock
between two fingers and waggled it.

	"Um, prick?"  That's what her brothers had always called it...

	"Nyet!  This too thick for prick, not so?"  Boris was teasing her.

	"Um, yeah.  Uhh, cock?"

	"Da!  Cock!  You want Boris's cock in there?"  He wriggled the
buried finger.

	"Yessss!" Leticia hissed.  Since feeling its massive thickness,
she'd been imagining it almost constantly.

	"Maybe I put it here, instead?"

	Boris reached across and another thick finger probed at her
sphincter.  'Oh, no!  I'll be split in half!'   Fear flashed through her --
but she knew better than to argue...  Surging, raising her hips, she gasped,
"If you want to."

	"Da," Boris agreed, "If I want to."  He poked and prodded both of
her nether holes for a moment, not really getting into her anus.  "I have
never done that -- you will be my first."  Almost unconsciously, Boris had
come to grips with something that hadn't quite penetrated to Leticia yet --
tonight would not be the last time the narrow black woman delivered herself
into his hands.  Boris KNEW this, without being able to consciously discuss
the reasons; the situation existed, and that was that.  She would return,
willingly or unwillingly -- and eventually, it would ALWAYS be willingly; if
circumstances didn't force her, hunger would.  Her reactions to him were too
clear, too strong, too genuine.  On the other hand, HE was surprised at HIS
response to the scrawny negress -- if asked, he'd have indicated that he
favored more husky women, like the cook, Velma.  Negresses had never entered
his thoughts as possible sex partners, either -- but his erection was still
rock hard, despite her doing her best to suck his balls dry...  "My bed is
in there, slut," he grunted, pointing.  "Go arrange yourself on it just like
this, and Boris will be along to give you fuck."  Leticia rolled off the
couch and headed in the indicated direction; Boris went around turning off
lights and the television.  "Turn on a light!  Boris wants to watch you wrap
yourself around his cock!"  Boris chuckled -- besides, he needed to see his
way to the bedroom...

                         --------------------

	"Well, that's turning out better than expected, don't you think?"
Armand grinned slyly at Sharon as she huddled beside him.

	"Uuuhhh!" Sharon moaned, riding the two fingers Armand had inserted
into her juicy pussy.  Her finger whirled on her clit, Armand having given
her permission to augment his efforts moments before.  She was deeply
embarrassed to be masturbating, but the video, recent events, and Armand's
fingers generated a burning need, and she was SOOOOOO close!

	"Shall we watch the finish, then?" Armand teased, then grasped her
left nipple and squeezed, harshly.

	"AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!" Sharon screamed, throwing back her head and
arching herself -- but it was a scream of joy more than a scream of pain, as
the intense sensation rocketed her over the brink.

	Armand shifted the inputs, murmuring, "Maybe I'll fuck you again..."

                         --------------------

	Naked Marco Polo in Jimmy's pool had about seen it's run.  Randall
caught Darla Jean in short order -- no surprise, given the conspiracy
involved -- then, after a whispered conference, Mary, Stick, and Teddy
basically drove Jimmy into Darla Jean's arms, after which he made loud,
happy noises about being thoroughly felt up, to Amy's amusement.  Then Jimmy
had very blatantly hunted down Amy, an effort that took several minutes
because the others regularly interposed themselves as shields, knowing what
was up.  Now Jimmy and Amy were necking in the middle of the pool, and the
others were reaching the point of discomfort with the cooling water and even
cooler air.  "I gotta get out," Stick complained.  Nobody argued; he was
showing a bluish tinge that might have been the pool lighting and might have
been cold -- and there were definite goose-bumps.

	"Me, too!" Teddy announced.  Once the exodus had started, the pool
was clear in moments, Jimmy going last and berating the others for being
lightweights while visibly shivering.  Inside the pool house, the groups
clustered as couples (and the triple), drying each other and helping each
other dress.  Mary dragged Stick and Teddy off to the corner on the excuse
that it was warmer there, and she wanted Stick warmed up, but the actual
purpose was quiet conversation.  Stick kicked it off, "Settin' up Jimmy for
Darla Jean was fun, but I got the feelin' there was more to it..."

	Mary grinned, "Well, Jimmy wanted to be caught, bad -- but, yeah, it
was more about Darla Jean.  Look, guys, can we take Darla Jean and Randall
back to my place?"

	Stick frowned, "Won't that fuck shit up?"  He raised an eyebrow and
turned to Teddy, who also had visible reservations.

	"Hear me out, now," Mary cajoled.  "Darla Jean and Randall are
getting their thing off the ground, but they're different than you and me.
I understand kind of dimly what's up, but I'm sure Teddy will understand
better, since he's a brain..."  Mary grinned; Teddy responded visibly to the
verbal stroke.  "When couples date, usually there's some romance.  By the
time they get to sex, there is an emotional commitment."

	"We didn't really do shit that way," Stick grunted.

	"Well, we're different, too, but what we have works.  But Darla Jean
and Randall went at it as sex, too, and are only now looking at romance --
only they're both hothouse brains, so romance is something they're pretty
leery of -- get my drift?"

	Teddy looked thoughtful; Stick grunted, "Okay, so they're stupid..."

	"That's the problem, Stick!  They're NOT stupid!  They're both VERY
SMART!  So they look at things scientifically, instead of just going with
the flow!" Mary pressed.  "They're suspicious -- frankly, lots of other
people ought to be because they get into relationships that won't last based
on just feelings -- and feelings change..."

	Stick turned a dubious expression on Teddy, but Teddy was nodding.
"You buyin' this?  I thought it was all about feelings..."

	"Well, it is," Teddy ventured, "but smart people like to be able to
find other things, too -- things that indicate that the whole thing makes
sense.  Things that show that their partners are good for them in some
way...  Smart people need reasons, not just feelings..."

	"Okay," Stick allowed, still dubious.  "An' all this is goin' --
where?"

	"Well, for them to be able to prove that one choice is better than
another, they need to be able to make comparisons..." Mary resumed.

	"Mmmm, yes -- and run tests..." Teddy nodded.

	"What kind of comparisons?" Stick asked suspiciously.  "What kind of
tests?"

	Mary sighed, dropping the general conversational level by lowering
her voice.  "Stick, am I a good fuck?"

	"Good enough for me..."

	"Yeah, but is that 'good'?"  Teddy took this up -- he was more
comfortable with the subject.  "How do you know that Mary isn't just okay,
and that there isn't a LOT better out there?"

	"That don't seem to matter to me -- there's other shit involved,"
Stick grunted.

	Teddy shrugged.  "I couldn't agree more -- but people who are
scientifically trained want to know 'how much' and 'why' and stuff like
that.  So they want to look at more than one version of things."

	"And?"

	Mary rolled her eyes.  "Darla Jean wants to look at more than one
type of pecker, okay?  And she wants to know if Randall can handle it!"

	Stick rocked on his heels.  "Well, I wouldn't fuckin' like it if I
was him..."

	"You share me with Teddy..."

	"That's different, an' you know it!"

	"Is it?" Mary prodded.  "Each of us has ample reason to be jealous
of the other two -- but we don't seem to be.  Why do you figure that is?"
Mary glanced around; obviously, Stick didn't want to keep this quiet.  "You
guys ready?  Let's go outside."

	The group crossed the room, causing Jimmy to look up, "You guys
going?"

	"Not quite yet," Mary replied, "but soon.  We need to make some
plans."  Jimmy nodded.  Darla Jean watched the trio filing out like a hawk;
Mary hadn't made any sign...  Outside, Mary restarted the conversation,
"Well?"

	"We got other things goin' on -- dependencies.  Ted ain't a threat
'cause he an' I got our own... understanding." Stick KNEW what it was, but
putting the whole thing into words was hard.  "You ain't a threat 'cause you
ain't in competition wit' Ted.  Ya got... different assets."

	"Right," Teddy agreed.  "We have mutual dependencies and we trust
one another.  It's more than just sex, it's understanding and tolerance,
protection, support..."

	"That's it," Mary agreed.  "It COULD be just sex, but it isn't.  We
have a relationship.  Randall and Darla Jean are working on that piece.  Sex
works pretty well for them, but it's one-dimensional.  Both of them are
pretty highly sexed -- something that seems weird, maybe, in hothouse
brains, but there it is -- and neither of them has a whole lot of
experience.  I'm not sure I understand the rest, but Darla Jean's curiosity
is killing her..."

	"They both want to apply their training to what's going on," Teddy
explained.  "Both of them can separate love and sex, mentally; the question
is, can they separate them emotionally?  For them to walk the talk, they
have to be able to say, 'This is love, and this is sex.'  I'm not even sure
they're up to saying 'love' -- they might substitute 'commitment', or
something.  Love kind of bothers scientific types -- it's not quantifiable.
To do that kind of experiment, one or both of them has to have sex with
someone else..."

	"Haven't they already done that?" Stick scratched his head.

	"Well, yeah," Mary replied.  "Both of 'em have had sex with a couple
of other people in the last week.  But they hadn't made any commitments to
each other..."

	"Oh."  Stick shook his head -- this was sure complicated.

	"The bottom line is that Darla Jean hasn't gotten all of the
experience she wants," Mary continued.  "Randall probably hasn't, either,
but Darla Jean broke down and told me that her momma was a wild thing when
she was in high school, and Darla Jean has the same needs.  She needs to do
some crazy shit, if only to get it out of her system.  At this point, I
don't think she sees any chance of keeping her legs together -- there's too
much temptation out there.  Randall has to handle that.  Ultimately, I think
it'll go the other way, too, and she'll have to put up with Randall dipping
other girls..."

	Teddy chuckled, "From his complaints, I'd say that general quality
has to go up.  Right now, Darla Jean is here," he held his hand up at head
level, "and the other chicks he's had are here."   This time the hand was a
waist level.  "If I was Randall, I'd be REAL committed to hanging onto Darla
Jean -- the total package fits him a LOT better than anything else around
here!  Even the sex experiment thing is kind of in the ballpark for him --
he can understand it."

	"Awright, so, Darla Jean wants to look around, an' Randall is gonna
deal with it or die tryin'.  Fine.  What I don't understand is where WE come
in!" Stick groused.

	"Wellll..."  Mary cocked her head and grinned.  "You have to admit
that tonight was a pretty rare opportunity.  You guys got to see four naked
girls and we got to see five naked guys.  I think you'd agree, though, that
it wasn't, like, perfect.  I mean, Thelma didn't bend over and spread her
legs so you could see her pussy lips or anything.  It was out there, but
everybody had to be cool and pretend they weren't interested, or anything,
and I know I was at fault for some of that..."

	"Yeah, okay, it woulda been nice to get a better look..." Stick
admitted.

	"Well, the girls had the same problem.  Five cocks went by, three or
four of them strange -- and we had to pretend we weren't fascinated."  Mary
eyed Teddy, "Heck, maybe we weren't the only ones..."  Teddy colored, but he
grinned -- and Stick did, too.  "That's one reason there was so much grab-
ass in the pool -- and it was why Darla Jean got to be Marco more than once
-- she wanted...  more..."

	Stick shrugged.  "Okay, so, what does she want?  And what do we get
out of it?  An' what about Randall?"

	"Well, we haven't exactly negotiated.  I imagine she wants a good
look, close up, at least -- probably a feel, if she can get it..." Mary
hazarded.

	"That a 'feel' feel, or a 'fuck' feel?" Stick wanted to know.  "An'
I don' wanna embarrass you, Baby, but Randall might feel kinda shorted..."

	"Okay, this is a lot of resistance.  I'll just tell her, 'no'," Mary
sighed.

	"No, I don't think you gotta do that -- I got no problem with Darla
Jean lookin' at my dick -- I just want to make sure she knows it ain't for
free!  What about, you, Ted?"

	Teddy shrugged, "I don't know why she'd bother..."

	"Honey, you're pretty amazing!  The whole idea is for her to see
different dicks, and yours is CERTAINLY different!" Mary assured him.

	"Well, okay," Teddy agreed.  "But that kinda takes us back to
Randall.  He obviously was, umm, inclined to be less than tolerant of guys,
and I don't know..."  His voice trailed off; the fact that Mary's torso was
less than appetizing wasn't an issue with Stick or himself, but they
couldn't expect that of Randall.  No need to rub Mary's nose in it,
though...

	Stick suddenly chortled.  "I got an 'experiment' for Randall!  We
blindfold him, an' you, Ted, an' Darla Jean each give him some head, and see
who he picks as best!"  The look on his face said he was pretty sure who
would win the contest, "I bet he embarrasses the fuck outta himself!"

	Mary's eyes glittered as the two boys vented their mirth.  "You
know, he might fall for that!"

	"He sure might!" Teddy agreed.

	Stick brought them back to earth with, "Yeah, but we're not talkin'
about goin' that far, are we?  We talkin' about stickin' dicks in Darla
Jean, or Randall stickin' his in you?"

	Mary pursed her lips, "Ummm, that's a negotiation thing.  And it's
the far end, I think.  Still, it might be smart to talk about it..."

	"Well?"  Stick crooked an eyebrow.

	"I've had dick before, Hon, and aside from the fact that yours is a
more decorative shade, yours and Randall's look about the same.  On the
other hand, you two have only had me..."

	"Y'all feel like that's a serious problem?" Stick grunted.  Teddy,
as was his wont, let Stick lead.

	"It's a risk," Mary admitted, "but I'm trying to kid myself that it
isn't major."

	"I don't think it is, either, but," Stick swapped glances with
Teddy, getting agreement before returning his attention to Mary, "you can
make the call."

	'This time,' Mary thought to herself.  Sooner or later, one or both
of them would trip over some other girl willing to sleep with them -- maybe
sooner, now that Stick was less anti-social and Teddy was blooming a bit.
It might be better to be there...  "So do I tell Darla Jean yes?"

	"Awright by me," Stick grunted.  "But if they start killin' things
by bein' there, I'm gonna want 'em gone after Show and Tell.  I dunno if Ted
wants Randall watchin' him, for one thing..."

	Teddy DID have reservations.  "I'm okay with the basics, but if we
go beyond that, well, Stick's right.  Randall isn't any too tolerant of guy
stuff -- I'm gonna want assurances that he can maintain his objectivity..."

	"Do you want to be at the negotiation?" Mary asked.

	"I trust ya.  Mebbe Ted should be, 'cause he understands what
they're up to.  But it needs to be clear that Ted and I got plans; if they
can't deal with that, then they gotta blow."

                         --------------------

	Darla Jean and Randall had long since finished dressing, and were
cuddled in a recliner, working on their kissing skills.  That wide mouth of
Darla Jean's was just amazing...  Randall pulled back, "Think we ought to go
soon?"  The other two couples were becoming more and more self-absorbed,
too...

	"We ought to stay and screw them up after last weekend," Darla Jean
groused.  "Besides, where are we going?  My place?  Mother might be okay
with it, but Dad..."  Darla Jean's father was a stick in the mud when it
came to sex -- even though Mother swore he was really good at actual
execution...  "Your place?"

	"My folks have NO IDEA!  I need to bring them along, not just bring
you in the house late on a Friday night and announce, 'We're gonna be
necking and... stuff...'  Besides, my little brother would drive us NUTS --
and my sister wouldn't be any better."

	"You have a brother and sister?"

	"I'm in the middle.  Sis is in college -- and should probably be at
MIT or somewhere, but she's not the independent type.  She'll probably
corner you and want to know how you managed to trap me -- so she can use the
tactics!"  Randall grinned.  "Del is a sophomore, and a pest -- he'd
probably want to watch."

	"Well, somehow, I managed not to have THAT complication," Darla Jean
laughed.  "Look, I have a request in to Mary for us to go to her place --
but of course, they have plans, too..."

	"Huh!  I bet!" Randall grunted.

	"Something wrong?" Darla Jean chided gently.

	"It's the Teddy -- Stick Williams thing.  I just don't get it."

	"Surely you knew that Teddy had... leanings?"

	"Well, yeah, I guess -- but it was kind of subconscious.  I knew I'd
never have to deal with it, so I could brush it off..."  Randall looked
away.

	"That's not very open-minded of you," Darla Jean remonstrated.  "Do
you have a serious thing about homosexuality, then?  What about lesbianism?"

	"I..."  Randall thought about it.  His father was SERIOUSLY
homophobic...  "It's prejudice, I guess.  Dad's freaked by anything that
smells of gay..."

	Darla Jean watched him work his way through it; this was what made
him different -- the fact that he could pull up his beliefs and examine
them, and perhaps, change them...  She did offer one obvious question, "Is
it possible that he had some kind of experience that caused this?"

	"Possible, I guess.  Like what?"

	"Jocks have been messing with geeks since forever.  I assume your
dad is a lot like you..."

	"Yeah..."  Jocks were seriously not in vogue at the Braithewaite
home, either.  Just about any sports figure was anathema to Randall's
father, and Del's campaign to be allowed to play hockey led to screaming
fits -- something not normal to Dad at ANY time.  And Mom had just stood by
and looked sad...  "I think maybe you're onto something."

	"A locker room run-in like I had -- except all guys..." Darla Jean
offered a scenario.

	"Ugh.  Pretty traumatic."

	"I'm just throwing something out -- I could be 'way off..."

	"Yeah," Randall agreed.  "Still, I need to look at things a bit more
closely -- and ask some questions."

	"And for tonight?"  Darla eyed him.

	"I'll work on collecting evidence.  You have to admit, though, that
Stick is an odd choice..."

	"Yeah."  Darla Jean shook her head.  "Ummm, look, there is more to
the Mary thing than I let on; we kind of got sidetracked, but there's...
other stuff..."

	"Like what?"  Randall gathered himself; he had this feeling...

	"Mary sort of offered to ask the guys if they'd let me examine
them..."  Suddenly Darla Jean couldn't hold her new boyfriend's eyes.

	Randall frowned.  "Examine?"

	"Well, I think the phrase was 'get a look at' or something
similar..."

	Randall sighed, "Is that enough?"

	"Um, well, I can get performance data from Mary, I think -- but we
have no common frame of reference.  Still, it's better than nothing."

	So Darla Jean wanted to 'examine' two other guys' cocks.  The up-
side appeared to be that she was telling him first, and that he'd be
present...  "You're jumping right out there -- we don't even have our feet
on the ground!"

	Darla Jean picked at her fingernails.  "I know -- but it's kind of a
unique opportunity!  This pool party thing has been, too, but the limits
were almost worse than the opportunities!  I know you're not thrilled..."

	"And if they offer sex?  What then?"

	"That's... too much to ask, I think."

	Randall couldn't agree more, but he also realized that it was no
less than what they'd discussed.  "Rules say I can't veto."

	"Well, no -- not ultimately.  But you ARE right -- it IS early..."

	Randall sighed, "That'd just be an excuse for future backsliding.  I
want to ask that you don't press, but I guess I shouldn't even do that."

	"You'd be there..."

	"I'm not sure that's such a great thing."

	"Well, you can collect data, too..."

	"Are you talking about watching, or Mary?"

	"Either one.  Both."

	"Well..."  Randall left it there.  Mary wasn't exactly on his hit
list, and watching Darla Jean get pumped by another guy...  Stick kind of
raised the specter of race, too, but Randall didn't want to think about
that.  "Let's just see..."

	At that moment, Mary stuck her head in the door, "Darla Jean?  Can
we talk, Hon?"

	"Uh, sure..."  Darla Jean flashed a glance at Randall, got up, and
walked over to Mary, stepping through the door behind her.  "What's up?"

	"I got my boys to agree in principle," Mary began cautiously.

	"Gee, it was that hard?" Darla Jean asked, floored.

	"Well, there were issues..."

	"Okay..."

	"There was some concern that it might interfere with our plans, for
instance."

	"Plans?"

	Mary rolled her eyes.  "We're gonna have sex.  All of us.  You
know?"  She grimaced.  "Randall didn't seem cool with that."

	"We... discussed it.  It'll be okay."

	"Then there were questions about how far it was all gonna go..."
Mary shrugged.  "We really didn't get into that; it'll have to be
negotiated.  And kind of a general 'What's in it for me?' kind of thing..."

	"Oh..."  Darla Jean was nonplussed.  "What do you want to do, then?"

	"Well, I think we oughta negotiate -- with guys present.  I've got
Teddy -- why don't you get Randall?"

	"Okay."  Darla Jean turned to step through the door, but stopped
halfway.  "Mary, if this is too weird..."

	"You know, Hon, I really don't know, yet.  Let's wait and see -- I
REALLY didn't think the boys would show any resistance..."

	Darla Jean stepped inside and waved to Randall, who joined her at
the door, "Believe it or not, there are issues..."

	"Huh."  Randall shrugged and followed her outside.  Now that he
thought about it, just waving his dick in front of a girl...

	Mary and Teddy were standing there; Stick was apparently crashed in
a lounger several feet away.  "Okay, so, the boys had some questions," Mary
kicked off.  "I didn't really think the whole thing through before I
offered, I guess."

	"Okay," Darla Jean replied.  "Why isn't Stick here?"

	"I have his proxy," Teddy replied.  "He figures I'm going to
understand your reasons, and if he was here it would be disruptive."

	"Okay, I guess.  So, what are the issues?"

	"Well, we're planning to... enjoy each other..."  Teddy blushed, but
he held his ground.  "I'm not sure that anybody is planning anything in the
way of a swap, but the three of us tend to do things that, well, might
squick Randall..."

	"No, it's okay," Randall responded.  "In fact, I'm kind of
embarrassed about earlier.  It's a prejudice I had installed at home, and I
wasn't thinking.  I'm cool now."  Teddy examined his face for a moment and
nodded.

	Mary took over, "I guess the next two questions are the critical
ones:  Just what are we talking about doing?  And what's in it for the
boys?"

	Darla Jean looked flustered.  "I-I guess I didn't think much beyond
a close examination -- you know, a look, maybe some touching.  'Show and
Tell', kind of."

	Mary looked critical.  "That could be very clinical or very
exciting, depending on how it's handled.  While I hesitate to ask, is that
enough?"

	"Well, I figured I could get ummm, performance data from you..."

	Mary chuckled, "Like, how good they are?"

	"Yeah."

	Randall surprised everyone by interjecting, "Of course, there is a
problem; the pair of you don't have anything calibrated in the way of a
mutual frame of reference..."

	Mary looked surprised.  "You mean, like, we don't know if what's
good for me is good for Darla Jean?"  They were drifting toward fucking,
here -- and Randall was driving!  Mary eyed him critically.

	"Yes."  Randall limited himself to the monosyllable.  He'd raised
the whole issue out of fairness, but the look on Mary's face asked the
question, 'So, you want to fuck me?'

	Darla Jean leaped into the breach, "I, uh, figure we can talk our
way through it.  It's not very scientific, maybe, but..."

	"Yeah," Mary grunted, "There are complications."

	"Besides," Darla Jean added, "If we go ahead after and go with the
plan of having sex with our partners, I'll get to see everybody's response
curves..."

	"There's that," Teddy agreed, "although I'm not sure how skewed the
data would be in front of an audience."

	"True," Randall agreed.  "The presence of an audience could either
stimulate or suppress the response of either partner..."

	Mary laughed.  "I think THIS is why Stick chose to sit this one out!
You guys are playing over my head..."

	"Well, both of us girls have done multiples, as embarrassing as it
is for me to admit it," Darla Jean posited.  "The guys might have some
performance anxiety, but..."

	"I can't understand why you even want to bother with mine," Teddy
interjected.

	Darla Jean favored him with a look of surprise.  "Even a glance says
you're not average, Teddy.  I'm trying to collect a complete dataset.  You
appear to have unique proportions..."

	"Yeah, I'm small..."

	"Small would be normal, I think.  You looked very thick to me --
unusually so.  I'm looking forward to the examination," Darla Jean assured
him.

	"That kinda brings us to the other thing," Mary interjected.
"What's in it for my boys?"

	"Ummmm, you had something in mind?" Darla Jean asked carefully.
Just being examined isn't enough?

	"Yeah."  Mary gathered herself.  "My boys need more data, too.  Thus
far, all either of them has seen is me -- and I'm not exactly on the upper
end of things.  While I'm not so sure I want to show them just how poorly
they've done, there probably ought to be some tit for tat..."

	Darla Jean blinked.  Flashing a glance at Randall, she agreed,
"That's... fair...  For that matter, it is a data gathering opportunity for
you and Randall, too..."

	Randall opened his mouth... and shut it.  Darla Jean was correct,
and embarrassing Mary with denials would be rude, to say the least.  "That's
true," he agreed cautiously.

	"I'm not sure I need any, but I guess it won't hurt," Mary hazarded.
Poor Randall!  At least she got to look at a decent dick!

	"I'm not sure how much farther we can go, here," Teddy announced
brusquely.  "To re-cap, everyone agrees to a physical examination of their
sexual attributes, and everyone agrees that there will be more or less
unrestricted in-relationship sex which may be at least peripherally
witnessed by the other parties without interference.  The door is open to
further experimentation, based on the comfort level of those involved."

	"Wow!  Do I have to sign something?" Darla Jean tittered.

	"I'm just laying it out," Teddy responded, slightly miffed.  "It's
an unusual set of circumstances."  He eyed Randall.

	Randall got it.  "Actually, it IS a unique data gathering
opportunity...  Agreed."  His approval was important on several levels, he
realized, and the possibility that he might witness homosexual acts WAS
unique...  "Girls?"

	"I'm game," Mary replied.

	"It's... pretty much optimal," Darla Jean agreed.

	"Then I guess we're pretty much done here," Teddy announced.
"Besides, we're probably cutting into the other guys' playtime.  I'll go get
my car; Mary, you want to say good night to Jimmy for us?"  Teddy headed
off, collecting Stick on his way.

	"Sure, Hon.  I'll be right along." Mary replied.  My, my -- so much
in charge, all of a sudden...

	"We'll have to follow separately," Darla Jean murmured.  "Randall,
do you know where Mary lives?"

	"No."

	"I do -- in case we get left behind...  I guess one benefit of being
a couple will be less gas money through car pooling, huh?"  Her eyes
sparkled.

	Randall grinned, nodding.  "I guess so.  Shall we go say goodnight?"
<1st attachment end>


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