Chapter 2

That was Thursday. Friday night, we went to the movies. No, I DON'T remember what the flick was - I spent most of it mapping Irma's neck and right ear with my lips and tongue, and everything ELSE in reach with my hands! You could ask her, but I don't think she remembers, either. We didn't actually have sex (dammit) - I went along (reluctantly) with the idea that we were doing dates one and two out of order. Sunday was Irma's twentieth birthday party (I spent half of Saturday combing the mall for that gift that said just the right thing - and fucked it up. No, don't ask - but she forgave me, anyway). After the party, her mama almost caught us fucking in her bedroom. I managed to get my pants up and zipped, but we were both pretty mussed up, and Mama decided that maybe I shouldn't be in Irma's room...

Monday sucked - I had to work late. So did Tuesday, despite two hours on the phone.

Wednesday, Vickie came by. I let her in, and listened to a sob story how she'd discovered her live-in (one Ted), had been salivating over the idea of a threesome, and was now pissed at her and wanted her out so he could bring in some redhead. Then she started getting all cow-eyed and made a run at me. I wasn't Irma-proof, but she'd made me decidedly Vickie-proof; I was busy calling her six kinds of whore when a knock sounded on the door.

Oscar was standing there. He glared at me and grunted, "Somebody parked a Pontiac in my space! The chink sez you got some blonde cunt up here visiting ya. Izzit hers? I'm gonna run the fuck over it!"

I stepped back and waved Oscar in. Oscar was a big fucker, and regularly truculent, for reasons I could certainly sympathize with. Next to Oscar, I was a polished diplomat. It took a special kind of woman - one in short supply - to appreciate his stellar qualities. And when you're walking around with full balls the size of navel oranges rubbing on each other between your legs... Okay, I'm exaggerating, a little, but YOU get the idea... "Vickie, this is my esteemed friend and neighbor, Oscar the Grouch. As you may have realized by now, he's kind of direct..." Oscar ran his eyes up and down over Vickie, and he licked his lips. Vickie blushed like a fire hydrant, and my brain lit up like a Christmas tree. Vickie wasn't really that hard to look at, as I may have mentioned. It's just that I knew instantly, on sight, that I didn't want to have to put up with the inevitable rash of shit that would come with her pussy. Oscar, on the other hand, could be as impervious as a brick wall... "Oscar, this is Vickie. She's the girlfriend of my current lady..."

"Huh! You gotta lady? Sumpthin' weird happen while I was asleep?"

I passed Oscar's comment off - I had other fish to fry. I continued the introduction, "Unlike us, Vickie is a real Mistress of the social graces. Unfortunately, she thinks the rules don't apply to her."

"Oh?" Oscar eyed Vickie with some interest, while Vickie eyed me in some irritation.

I continued, things going my way. "Yeah. She can be a real true-blue friend - she came up here with her girlfriend the other night to make sure I wasn't Jack the Ripper, and stayed for the whole show - but she slips up sometimes, and suffers lapses."

"Mike..." Vickie made an effort to sound dangerous. Oscar sounds rough, but he's not stupid at all - he's an electrical engineer. He just stood there, with one eyebrow quirked.

"For instance," I continued, "She's living in with some silver-tongued but needle-dicked individual named Ted. Having observed Irma and I exercising our love muscles, she's realized just how short he is, on both counts. Since he was apparently hanging onto her in the hopes of dragging my lady in for a threesome, he got pissy, and she's on the brink of being homeless."

"Ya don't say!" Oscar turned a considering glance on Vickie, and she got that look of outraged dignity that women get when caught with their panties around their ankles. "So, tell me, what WAS 'the whole show?"

I buffed my fingernails and examined the result. "My lady was generous enough to vend me her cherry on that couch over there. As you can imagine, I'm disinclined to be parted with her."

"An' this one watched?" Oscar rumbled, looking distinctly predatory. Vickie blushed. She already made some preparations for seduction; the tube top she was wearing did a poor job of hiding taut nipples, or the bellybutton beneath, and the miniskirt was painted on. Oscar began to get the idea. "How is this a lapse?"

"Well, its all part of a pattern - hang with me a sec. Yeah, she watched, although the urge to participate overcame her in the final stages."

"You had it, then?" Oscar interjected. Vickie was visibly measuring inches and angles, but Oscar was between her and the door, and his reach almost extended to her NOW.

"No," I replied, "If a lady is kind enough to consent to sex with me, I usually figure she's worth my full attention. This one's kind of omnivorous, though - she settled for helping my lady friend over the humps."

"Mike!" Vickie howled, "Dammit, I'm..."

Oscar reached out lazily with one hand, there was this kind of a flick and spin, and Vickie was parked against his right hip, with his left hand over her mouth. She started waving her arms and got red in the face, but very little sound came out. "Quiet, you! We're still discussin' what y'are! I see what'cha mean about her manners," Oscar observed, turning his attention to me.

Next she tried to bite him, and he just calmly trapped her nose between his thumb and forefinger. "You can lick, but not bite," Oscar observed, calmly, "or breathin' can get a mite difficult..." Next she telegraphed a kick, but Oscar's hand was on her belly. I think the move he used is called 'the Claw' in wrestling; certainly, only strong people can do it. Oscar murmured, "Nice abs," and Vickie doubled over, the offending leg coming up.

This expose produced the final damning evidence of her duplicity, and I was quick to point it out, disgusted. "Damn, Oscar, she isn't wearing any panties!" I shook my head. "It's all part of the pattern, I'm afraid. That IS her car in your parking space, for instance - after I went to some lengths the other night to point out to her that you wouldn't be pleased." Vickie's chicken flapping was starting to get weak, between Oscar's hand on her mouth and nose, and his fingers paralyzing her diaphragm. "You should lick, Vickie," I observed, "Then I recommend you hold real still while Oscar and I finish talking about you - it's really in your best interest." Oscar grinned, and I knew a wet tongue was caressing the insides of his fingers. Fairly quickly, Vickie started getting air, wheezing through Oscar's fingers. "Like I said," I continued, "she's back and forth, and she kind of tramples on people when it suits her needs. But the thing that I just can't condone - the thing that pisses me off - is what she's up to today!"

"That bein'?" Oscar asked. Vickie's eyes got huge, but she was still recovering.

"She came over here to schmooze her way into my bed and cut in on her best girlfriend!" I replied, irate. "The little bitch needs a new place to live, and a source of real dick, and she was trying to cut out her best friend to get it!"

"Ewwww," Oscar observed, as calmly as I'd ever heard him. "That's bad. That true, Vickie? The evidence is pretty strong..." He let go of her belly, but apparently only to bury his hand between her legs. "You can nod, Honey. Tell the truth, now." Vickie just stood there for a second, with this scandalized look on her face while Oscar's fingers wandered over her crotch, then her shoulders drooped, and she nodded, 'Yes'.

"Oscar, I'd appreciate it if you'd kinda take Vickie under your wing - you know, fuck her, give her a second opinion when she's trying to figure out right from wrong, that kind of thing." Vickie's eyes bugged, but she wasn't doing sound yet. "I figure she owes you rent for the parking spot, anyway. I have to go get Irma for our date tonight, and I'd hate to have to relate this incident to her... You understand, Vickie? Capisce?" Butter wouldn't melt in my mouth...

Vickie raised a finger, and Oscar peeled back his fingers - but he had her nose. "Mike? You wouldn't, would you? You aren't seriously encouraging me to have sex with this Neanderthal?"

The hand closed over her mouth, and discussion stopped. "You're gonna have to suck the finger, this time," Oscar observed calmly.

I was kind of amazed - this was the calmest I'd ever seen him. "I'm serious, Hon. I think you two will be good for one another. For one thing, Oscar's got a serious weapon there," I nodded at his crotch, "and the will to use it. You take a few rounds from that gun and it'll make him all around much more pleasant to deal with - and you won't lose by it, either. You can try to teach him manners, and kind of act as his interface with the real world, while he keeps you on the straight and narrow. What do you say?"

"Hmmmm," Oscar rumbled, "I think she's lookin' for a finger to suck..." I watched his middle finger reposition. "Don't bite, or you just don't wanna know..."

She sucked for a second or two, and Oscar opened up. After a few seconds, I asked "Well?" and got a muffled ''Kay" from her. I think it might have been driven by the discovery that Oscar's middle finger was apparently the size of this Ted's dick.

Oscar kind of stood there, grinning, and I knew she was still sucking. "I think I'm gonna do this favor for ya, Mike," he rumbled. "Might be some gen'ral benefit in it." He did some kind of flick at Vickie's waist, and she spun out of his grip - but before she got control, he stooped, heaved, and she was over his shoulder, going "Ooof!" and I was standing there, looking at her bare ass. Oscar acted like such things happened all the time; he continued with, "So this new girl of yours actually gave you her cherry?"

"Yep," I nodded, "I'm trying to decide whether to have the couch cleaned, or preserve it for posterity." We wandered over to the couch and Oscar examined the leftovers, like Vickie weighed nothing.

She struggled up and gave out with an outraged, "Hey!", but Oscar popped her on the ass once with his open hand and said, "Quiet, woman! Man talk!" and she subsided, initially from being bug-eyed from shock (and maybe pain - he left a red mark). After that, though, the finger he was dragging through her pussy lips seemed to be a pacifier - that and the finger I waved to remind her she had obligations.

We stood around discussing how fine women were - in their place - until I glanced at my watch and announced, "Got to go and pick up Irma, Man. You got this?" Oscar nodded, grinning. I went around to where Vickie was bracing herself on Oscar's back, "You be a good girl, now - or else!" We got organized, and I led us out of the apartment, then stopped to watch Vickie disappear down the hall, clutching her purse, still hanging over Oscar's shoulder.

I collected Irma at her house. Mama gave me the eye, but seemed generally civil. We went out for Italian, then back to my place. I popped open the door, and was wondering how hard it was going to be to get Irma out of her panties when she took my hand and led me to the bed, putting an end to THAT worry. When it became apparent that she wasn't going to stand on ceremony, I helped her out of her dress and started shucking - Hell, I was wearing more than she was! We slid into the bed and I took it easy, being the lover rather than the fucker, kissing and caressing - I wanted her to feel good about being there. But she kept upping the ante - first by reaching for, and then diving on my cock, then by sticking her bush in my face to lick on. Then she hopped up and dropped herself on my rod and started pumping. We ended up with her on her hands and knees, cumming three times while grunting "Go! Go! Go!" as I pounded her doggie style, grinning like a hyena, no mercy asked for or granted.

I was lying collapsed atop her, afterward, working her neck and shoulder with my lips, when a thought occurred to me. "You know, we forgot rubbers again." Irma went still, then turned her head to eye me. "I had Pills - I just wasn't taking them."

"They take a while to take effect, don't they, Hon?" I asked gently.

"Yeah, well, that's why I went to the doctor and got a shot." She motioned that she wanted to roll over, so I got up on my hands and knees and let her. She eyed me anxiously, "I wouldn't try to trap you that way..."

"Okay."

Irma chose to believe I was unconvinced. "No, really!"

"I know," I replied, "Besides, you can't."

She blinked. "I can't?"

"Nope." I tickled her ribs. "The day I plant a baby in your belly is the day I trap YOU, not vice-versa."

"Oh," Irma frowned. "You say the damnedest things."

"You don't understand?" I asked gently.

"No," she replied. "It's like you're saying things backwards. It sounds like..." She shook her head.

I knew what was up, but I let it ride. She had this 'Nobody wants me' thing going on, and anything not perfectly clear, she was blocking. On the other hand, I knew she wasn't going to believe a clear statement from me, so I wasn't making any. But I also knew she'd play fair - undoubtedly, she'd REALLY gotten a contraceptive shot. "Leave it, Hon. It'll all come clear, sometime. Let's neck some more." I went back to work on her, and this time, we built up slowly, then made long, slow love, missionary style.

Relaxing after, I rolled her on top and used her for a blanket, rubbing her back and flanks. "God," she sighed, "Every time, it's just incredible. I don't know how I'm ever gonna do without."

"Me either," I replied, and left it at that. A minute or two later, I noticed my neck was wet. "Okay, Hon, tell me."

"Won't last forever," she whiffled.

"No? You in a hurry to move on?"

"Huh? God, no!"

"Then don't buy trouble," I admonished.

We snoozed and snuggled until midnight, then reluctantly got dressed, and I took her home. Mama was still up; she took one look at Irma, nodded, and let us alone while I kissed her goodnight. I tried to do a good job.

When I got home, Vickie's Pontiac was still in Oscar's parking spot.

It was STILL there when I left for work, Thursday morning. Thursday sucked. I had to work until seven, and Irma had to study for an exam or something. I called her at nine, and we spent an hour and a half on the phone, doing some kind of ESP thing - damn sure, we weren't really saying much. 'I love you' was taboo, but I spent most of the night thinking it - and I knew she did, too. It made it hard to talk. We made a date for Friday night - plans unspecified. Entertainment wasn't an issue; being together was.

By now, you've no doubt noticed a pattern: If a day passed I didn't see Irma, that day sucked. I probably could have won the Lottery, and it wouldn't have changed things. Sex wasn't required - it was DAMN NICE, but it wasn't required - I just needed the feel of her, snuggled up.

When I came home to change Friday night, there was a message on the machine. The fact that I dreaded taking it, for fear it was Irma canceling, should be indicative - but it was Oscar, something unprecedented in itself. "Hey, Man, why don'tcha bring your lady around fer drinks or sumpthin'? I gotta see this woman - she musta had some effect on ya... Mebbe seven thirty? I'll get the help to figger out sumpthin' to gnaw on..." I thought about it a bit while I changed, but decided that exposure to Oscar wouldn't hurt Irma and might help her self-image - so I rang him up and accepted. "Good!" he grunted. "This 'un's got you locked down, ain't she?" I instinctively hemmed and hawed, and Oscar laughed - something unprecedented; it took real humor, usually gallows humor, to get Oscar out of the grumps. Vickie must have drained him, good! "Go ahead!" he grunted, "Lie about it! If ya can, ya poor bastard!" I conceded defeat, and Oscar grunted "'Bout time! See ya at seven thirty!" and hung up. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I noticed that Vickie's car was no longer in Oscar's parking slot - his big Ram pickup was where it was supposed to be. Well, I hadn't expected miracles.

At Irma's, I related the early plan, adding that we could do dinner later. "I'm on display, then?" she asked. Maybe I should wear something different..." She was wearing a skirt and blouse; in fact, I hadn't seen her in pants since that first night, and I wasn't complaining. She had nice calves - Hell, she was good for several inches above the knee before that run of cellulite on her inner thighs started to show - and if her ankles were a little thick, they weren't THAT bad! The nature of current fashion in blouses meant that even relatively demure rigs were too short to tuck in, and that meant you got an occasional flash of midriff. It ALSO meant it was easy to get a hand under there, and get a feel of bare flesh, something I was real happy about!

"No, I don't think so, Hon," I demurred. "You look real good to me..." I forbore to mention that Oscar's preference would probably be for her to be as close to nude as possible. Besides, he could LOOK, not touch! I wasn't REALLY sure of Oscar's tastes in women - lackanookie made us both fairly omnivorous - but I found myself vaguely troubled by the idea that he might be moved to make Irma a better offer...

Irma went over and kissed her mama's cheek, and whispered briefly in her ear; Mama's eyes, which were on me at the time, went momentarily hard, but she nodded. Then she tugged Irma back, and whispered in HER ear. Irma stepped back, stood there a second regarding her mama as if she'd been caught at something, turned to me and said "I'll be back in a second!" and took off like her tail feathers were on fire. I shot a glance at the stair, and looked back at Mama, wondering why I felt that I was in trouble over the exchange.

Mama removed all doubt. "I know what you two are up to," she announced, and settled back to wait. The question didn't need asking; it was lying there, between us.

I sighed. "We've been carefully avoiding words starting with 'L' and 'M'," I related. "Her, because she's afraid to come out with 'em, and me because I know she's not ready to believe me, yet."

"Yet?" Mama echoed, visibly thawing.

I nodded tightly. "Personally, I'm real comfortable with 'L', and I'm working on pronunciations for 'M'."

What about 'S'?" Mama asked, sharply.

I hung my head a bit, but held her eye. "We're past talking about that. We're into practical application."

"Practical application of 'S' leads to unforeseen complications, starting with 'C'!" Mama admonished.

"If THAT happens," I grinned ferally, "she'll have to pull her head out of her ass, because it'll be my excuse to limber up my whole vocabulary, and I won't take words starting with 'N' for an answer!"

Mama's eyes popped, and she took in a breath. I stood there waiting, one eyebrow raised. Finally, she chuckled. "Keep working on her - she REALLY wants to try out 'L'..." She turned and wandered off, and I collapsed into a chair. While I was getting over the shakes, Papa stuck his head in the door and eyed me, looking thoughtful. I waited, but he merely got an eyeful and withdrew.

Moments later, Irma pattered back down the stairs, a gym bag under her arm. "What did you two say to one another?" I wondered aloud.

Irma blushed a bit, "I said 'Don't wait up, ' and she said 'Take day clothes.' She knows."

"Yeah," I agreed. "We had a few words while you were upstairs."

Irma looked anxious. "She didn't... press you for any assurances, did she?"

"No," I replied, and left it at that. "Shall we?"

Back at my place, we went up and dropped her bag in my apartment, then wandered down the hall to Oscar's. Irma preened herself nervously, while I related, "Oscar's kind of rough trade - not big on the social graces. Try to take things he says at face value. He tends to come off grumpy, but he's just gruff - and he's a LOT smarter than he talks!"

"Okay," Irma nodded diffidently, and I nibbled at her neck before ringing the bell, to distract her from her nerves.

The door opened fairly quickly, and Oscar stood there, looking fairly genial. His eyes lit as he examined Irma, "Howdy Mike!" He backed up, waving us in, but his eyes never left Irma, and I knew fear. "So, this is your lady! Huh! I'm surprised! You never told me you liked your women to have..." (I could think of a dozen things he might say, none of them particularly complimentary), "a shape to 'em!" I nodded, surprised. I'd expected 'big jugs', or 'suitcases', or 'a chunky ass' - although, frankly, she was pretty nicely presented. "Have a seat. What's your name, Sweet Thang?"

As Irma related it, I looked around. Everything was about per usual - maybe a little neater and cleaner. The layout of his place was virtually identical to mine, if perhaps a bit better furnished. There was an odd pile of boxes over against the wall near the bedroom I didn't remember, but other than that it was just Oscar's place. I led Irma to the couch, and Oscar dropped into the recliner opposite, scratched himself, and said, "So, how long you two been goin' out?"

"About a week," I answered.

Oscar eyed Irma. "Steady thing?"

Irma blushed a bit, "Well, I haven't tried to put a hammerlock on him..."

Oscar looked surprised. "Why not? Mike's horde of loose women scare ya?" At Irma's surprised blink, he rumbled, "Oops! Just funnin' ya! Shouldn't have, either - Mike's been pretty clear about how he feels about ya, an' I just caused ya confusion. Sorry Mike." He looked around. "Shit, I oughta be doin' the host thing. Wanna beer, Mike? I laid in some wine fer yer lady." Then he shocked us both! "Hey, Slut! Where the Hell are ya! Yer supposed ta be keepin' me from steppin' on my dick, here!"

I had about a half-second to get a grip, but it wasn't much help. Vickie came out of the bathroom, wearing, let's see - a hair ribbon, a dog collar, and a smile. "Sorry, Oscar - I had to pee! Hi Irma!" As she turned toward the kitchen, I noticed a pattern of red handprints on her ass, too.

Irma sat there, with her mouth open, then sputtered, "Hi, Vickie!" I rubbed my forehead. I wasn't too sure how I'd look when my hand in THIS was revealed!

Vickie poured wine into two glasses and moved two beers from the fridge to a tray already populated with cheese and crackers, then brought it in and put it on the coffee table. Handing Irma her wine, she replied, "I'm 'Slut' this week - or until Oscar decides on something else."

"Why? When did YOU TWO get together?" Irma blurted.

"Well, 'cause she ain't no lady!" Oscar chuckled. "Mike introduced us Wednesday, an' we kinda hit it off..."

"Well, okay, but this?" Irma's wave took in Vickie's somewhat controversial mode of dress.

"It's, uh, a long story," Vickie murmured. "Oscar's right, though. This is kind of a punishment - I did something bad, and this is how I'm paying for it."

"Say, Os, can you bring me up to date?" I asked, kind of hoping that we could get away from the worst of it.

"C'mere, Slut. Sit on Daddy's lap an' make him happy," Oscar directed. Vickie did just that, apparently without reservation, and Oscar cupped a pink-nippled breast. "Well, after we left your place, Vickie and I had a meeting of the minds. She got stupid a coupla times, and forgot her agreement, but eventually, she came around."

Vickie shook her head, "Once you were out of sight, I figured I could get out of the whole thing. I tried to make a run for it, but Oscar caught me and shucked me out of that outfit in nothing flat. I started running my mouth, and pissed him off, and he paddled my ass! It hurt like Hell, and I was bawling and carrying on, but there was his big poker jabbing me in the belly..."

Oscar chuckled. "I gotta little excited; she's a feisty bitch! Anyway, I just left her there, rubbing on her ass fer a while, an' when she settled down to jus' snifflin', next thing I knew she was rubbin' on my pole! I stuck a finger in her an' she started wigglin' - next thing ya know, she was tryin' ta get my pants off!"

"Vickie?" Irma gasped. "I thought you were, uh, sorta hung up?"

"Um, well," Vickie sighed, "I try to stick to the small stuff, but sometimes I get carried away. Like the night you and Mike went at it the first time - I was hotter than a firecracker, and it didn't go away!"

"What about Ted?" Irma queried.

Vickie looked pissed. Oscar rubbed her back, and she settled down a bit. "Ted is all talk. He hops from girl to girl, talking his trash to get in their pants. Most times, he has to move on pretty quickly, though, because he's both self-centered and not very satisfying, if you know what I mean. I got home that night and discovered that he'd seen how hard up you were, and he figured he could get a threesome with us both. Mike wrecked that, but good, both because he took you out of action and he gave ME a lesson in what I was SUPPOSED to be getting from Ted! By Wednesday, Ted and I were Splitsville."

Oscar grinned. "I let her have what she wanted. We gotta work on her blowjob skills, but she hops up an' down on a cock right energetic-like, an' she seemed pretty happy with the results..."

Vickie grinned from ear to ear. "I came four times! The FIRST time!" Vickie spun on Oscar's lap and leaned back against his chest; I could see she was excited from her face. Oscar was, too - his sweatpants weren't hiding it well. In fact, Vickie was straddling a sizeable bulge! Vickie removed all doubt that she had failed to detect it when she started rubbing it through his sweats. "I NEVER came like that! NEVER!"

Oscar grinned. "We went an' got her shit from ol' Needle Dick last night. I convinced him he oughta call it even with Vickie over the rent, seein' she wuz givin' him pussy. 'Sides, we caught him in bed wit' some redhead." Vickie was getting seriously lurid, rubbing Oscar's erection through his sweats. I looked over at Irma, and she was not unaffected; a hand on her back was very welcome, to judge from her sigh when I slid it under her blouse. She cuddled up a bit, and Oscar returned to his original question, "So, howcum you two haven't shacked up officially?"

Irma looked sad. "I've got no hold on Mike," she sighed. "We're having a lot of fun, but when something better comes along..."

Oscar frowned. "Slut, you're distracting me. Pull it out an' sit on it if ya gotta, but be still fer a minute - I gotta fix this." We all kind of just stopped for a minute, then, because Vickie was suddenly serious entertainment. She proceeded to stand up, turn around, pull Oscar's sweats down around his ankles, spin, grab Oscar's rampant eight incher, and slowly impale herself, settling onto his lap, reverse cowgirl-style. Irma's eyes bulged, and she snuggled up close. Frankly, mine did, too - I'd never seen anything so wild in my life! I moved to cup Irma's right breast, and she raised her arm to make sure I could get at it. Oscar closed his eyes for a second, then opened them, grunting, "Okay, Slut. You've made a spectacle of yourself. Now hold still until we get this thing sorted out - I need my full attention! An' if you go squeezin' that pussy, I'm gonna paddle your ass!" He then turned his regard on Irma, "Girl, I think you underestimate yourself. And I KNOW you underestimate Mike!"

Irma blinked, but demurred, "No, I know how it is. I'm..."

"Well, git it out, Girl!" Oscar growled.

"Okay! I'm ugly! And I'm fat! Satisfied?" Tears rolled. I rubbed her back - I didn't know WHAT to say - besides, I knew better.

Oscar either didn't, or was willing to act as a lightning rod. "I think yer overdoin' it. Okay, so you ain't Helen of Troy, an' you ain't a swimsuit model. Still ya got stuff going for ya. I ain't seen ya nekkid, but I'd be willin' to rate you at, oh, six and a half - that's plenty decent..."

"Six and a half!" I erupted hotly. "Okay, so she isn't scrawny - you can't apply those rules to her body type - it's different! She ISN'T fat - she's real muscular, generally! And she doesn't have your usual narrow babe face, but she's got character! She's at LEAST an eight - and that doesn't cover the intangibles!"

I ran down, and Oscar sat there, grinning. I realized I'd been had, as Oscar turned his grin on Irma. "See?" Wondering green eyes shifted from his to mine, and I grinned sheepishly. Oscar continued, "Does that sound like an objective assessment to you, Girl? An' if it doesn't, what do you figger that means?" The eyes went thoughtful, then widened. Oscar chuckled again, "Yeh, the hook's set. You can start reelin'." Then his voice shifted, "You're wigglin' Slut. Be good!"

Vickie whined, "I'm trying, but... it's sooo hard!"

Oscar chuckled, and Irma used the distraction to break away from the current thought process. "Okay, so maybe things look good for now, but what happens the first time I have to compete with something like that?" She waved at Vickie, who was indeed squirming.

Oscar's grin just got wider. "Mike's already passed THAT test, Girl. You ever wonder what Slut, here, was doin' at Mike's on Wednesday?" His face got hard. "Tell, her, Slut."

"Oh, Os, do I hafta?" Vickie whined.

"Think of it as an exercise in honesty, Slut." Oscar's hand slipped over Vickie's crotch, and the finger rotation left no doubt what he was doing to her clit. "If ya tell her, I'll let ya cum - maybe I'll let ya wear clothes next week. If ya don't, I'm gonna use your ass instead of your pussy fer a week, an' I'm gonna make sure you don' get any joy outta it!"