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Subject: {ASSM} Fonda and Cat [9,10/23] {John A and Virago Blue} MF,MFF,FF, Rom, anal
Date: Tue, 26 Sep 2000 19:10:15 -0400
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This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to real 
persons is unintentional and strictly coincidental.  If you are below 
the age of 18, or 21 depending on your locality, stop reading right 
now. If your government prohibits erotic literature, stop reading 
now and delete this. If you choose to continue, that is your decision 
-- and your responsibility -- not mine.

Any distribution without the authors' permission is strictly prohibited.

DO NOT REPOST

"Fonda and Cat" 
Copyright (C) 2000 by John3365A@aol.com (John A) and 
VBwrites@aol.com (Virago Blue)
All rights reserved.
---------------------------


Fonda and Cat
by John A and Virago Blue



Chapter 9


Fonda grinned at his brother. Stavros chuckled, shaking his head.
"So, you two had a good time last night, eh?"

"It was amazing, Stavros. I'm actually sore this morning."

"Really? She wore you out?"

Fonda lowered his voice as one of the line cooks walked by him
carrying a bucket of vegetables. "Not just her, but her roommate
too."

"Bullshit," Stavros responded loudly, causing some of the kitchen
help to look in their direction. Then he lowered his voice and
clutched his brother by the arm. "You're fucking with me, aren't
you? You had the gorgeous one with the big tits, too?"

Fonda smiled broadly. "I can't believe it. I felt like a porn
star. I really had no idea what to do. It was incredible."

"Well, I'm jealous, you lucky bastard. You can thank me later.
For now, we have a little problem with the calamari delivery."

Fonda tied a crisp, white apron around his waist and walked over
to one of the huge stoves. The aroma of sauteed onions and garlic
greeted him. His stomach growled in return. He was so involved in
last night's activities that he never ate dinner. He gathered the
ingredients to make an omelet, taking some of the freshly chopped
scallions and peppers from a cutting board.

"Fonda!" Stavros interrupted. 

"We have no shortage of onions, Stavros . . . "

"I don't care about that. We have to do something about the
calamari, though. But you just eat and don't worry about what's
going wrong with *your* restaurant. Fine." He threw his hands up
in frustration. "Take ten minutes to eat breakfast, Mr. Hefner,"
Stavros grinned. "But I have something else to discuss with you."

Fonda poured the egg mixture into a skillet and turned his
attention back to his brother. "Go on."

"We've hired a lot of new people lately, especially at the
market, and I think we might want to sweep through with another
round of tests."

"More drug tests, Stavros?" Fonda sighed.

"I know, I know. I really don't like the idea any more than you
do, but we need to cover our asses. If someone gets sick because
of something some druggie gutting fish does, we're screwed and
can kiss this restaurant goodbye."

"I know, you're right. It just seems distasteful to me, making
someone piss in a cup. Ok, call the guy -- the clinic -- that
does it. Set it up for as soon as possible and get it out of the
way."

"Fine. Now, make the call to the calamari shysters so we can get
that out of the way," Stavros said.

"Give me the phone," Fonda sighed, shaking his head while he
called his squid supplier.

While Fonda and Stavros were discussing business details, Trina
settled herself into her regular seat at the restaurant,
pretending to be interested in the menu. She glanced over the top
of the laminated page, scanning the dining room and bar for any
signs of Fonda. After last night she couldn't stop thinking about
him. She asked Margie to give him a message for her but she knew
how forgetful her friend could be. Missing the appointment with
her agent this morning was not an option. And it was definitely
worth it after her agent called and told her that she was granted 
an audition with Madame Renault and the NYC Ballet Company. She
couldn't wait to share the news with Fonda.

Trina blushed when Fonda stepped through the double doors from
the kitchen. He was wearing the same clothes from yesterday with
a clean white apron thrown over them. His hair was slicked back
and he needed a shave. He looked gorgeous. Trina felt nervous.
She was unsure of what he'd think of her after the threesome with
her best friend last night and was kind of fearful of his initial
reaction to her.

Over the next several minutes, she fought the urge to jump up and
run as far away as she could possibly go. This scared her more
than anything. Normally with men she dated, she was
straightforward and disinterested, smug in the way she would make
them uncomfortable. But with Fonda, she felt an uneasiness that
she couldn't define. She was nervous about seeing him and she was
actually concerned -- worried -- over what he felt about her.

She heard the bell on the door and watched as Fonda looked up to
greet the next customer. His expression changed slightly. Instead
of smiling and cordially greeting the next patron as was his
usual demeanor, he fidgeted and smiled nervously. Trina leaned
over slightly in her chair to see past the booth in front of her
to get a good look at who just entered.

"Hey Fonda. Long time, no see. Thought I'd stop in for lunch and
see if I could ring up another big bill," Margie laughed, placing
her hand familiarly on Fonda's sleeve. "You look a little tired,
love. Didn't you get any sleep last night?" Margie teased.

Trina's eyes narrowed as she watched the exchange. Margie was
dangerously close to crossing a line with her. Despite their
unusual evening, Trina felt territorial toward Fonda. That feeling
bothered her almost as much as Margie's reaction to him. A day
ago, Fonda was nothing more to her than a minor annoyance, an
errand that had to be dispatched as expeditiously as possibly.
But now he was someone she felt was *hers* and she actually felt
that she and Fonda were a couple, something that she rarely -- if
ever -- felt with any man. She was jealous. Catty even, she
thought, smiling slightly. 

"I'll just find my usual table. I'll just bet Trina shows up,"
Margie kissed Fonda on the cheek and gave him a surreptitious pat
on his ass, causing him to jump, before she walked down the aisle
to their corner table by the window. She looked at Trina in
surprise, smiling broadly. "Well, speak of the devil. Fonda, did
you know Trina was already here waiting to see you?" Margie
winked.

Trina was annoyed. Margie was acting a little too loud and
obnoxious -- even more than usual. Fonda approached their table
and pulled up a chair. He sat and gazed into Trina's eyes. "I
didn't see you sitting there, Cat," Fonda smiled dreamily. 

"Cat?" Margie giggled. "Still with the 'cat' nickname? Do I get a
nickname too?"

Trina threw a glare at Margie, but ignored her comment. "I just
walked in. I'm a little early. I had a great meeting with my
agent . . . I'm so excited."

"Yeah, I bet," Margie laughed.

It was Fonda's turn to glare at Margie. He wanted nothing more
than to spend some time alone with Trina. Margie's presence was
just making everything uncomfortable for everyone.

Trina smoothed back her hair and turned more in Fonda's
direction. His deep brown eyes were melting her, making her feel
nervous. How much did he think of last night? Did it totally take
over his thoughts like it had hers or was he simply overwhelmed
by the threesome? What did he really think of her? At first she
didn't think Fonda was her type at all, but now all she could
think about was being alone with him. She couldn't fully gauge
his reaction now, though. He seemed nervous and uncomfortable.
Was he bothered by Margie's obnoxious little comments or did the
threesome with Margie cross some sort of line they couldn't
recover from? Was their relationship over before it had even
really begun? She was just so caught up in the moment that she
didn't think of the long term consequences of involving Margie
last night. Still, she was excited about her audition and washed
away all of her fears to tell Fonda about it. 

"Anyway, remember how I was talking to the older woman at the shoot? 
She was the director of the NYC ballet." Trina squirmed in her seat, 
leaning in closer to Fonda. "I have an audition scheduled at 2:00 
tomorrow afternoon!" Trina beamed, squeezing Fonda's hand.

"That's wonderful, Trina. If your ballet dancing is as good as
the dancing I saw last night -- at the video shoot . . . " Fonda
quickly added, darting a look at Margie, "you'll knock their
socks off."

"Yeah, I'll just bet." Margie laughed again, banging her hand
down on the table.

"Shut up, Margie," Trina barked, glaring at her friend.

Margie snapped her mouth shut and looked back at them in wide-eyed
surprise.

"So. . . how are you doing today?" Trina asked a little shyly.

Fonda smiled. He took his hand in hers and kissed her fingertips.
"Very well. I'm tired."

Trina blushed. "So, like, that bill from yesterday is thrown away
and forgotten about?" 

Fonda laughed. "Unless you would like a lesson in fish-gutting." 

Fonda and Trina laughed together. Margie picked up her menu as
Fonda excused himself to make a phone call and wait on a couple
of tables. 

"I'll be back for your orders, ladies," he smiled and let his
gaze rest on Trina as he walked away.


"Hey Fonda, I just got off the phone with the lab," Stavros
walked from the office as Fonda hung up his cell phone after
speaking with his squid supplier. "The guy will be here for pee-pee
time tomorrow morning at 8:00."

"Let's just get it over with. It ruins morale whenever we have to
do that."

"What did *they* say?" Stavros motioned toward the phone.

"They'll get back to me in a couple of minutes. This is the
second time in the last month the calamari has been shit. If they
don't give me an answer I like, we'll go with someone else. I'm
getting pissed with them."

"Oh another thing, I wanted to tell you that Will has some
suspicions about a couple of people in the market."

"Like who?" Fonda asked.

"There's that delivery guy, Jackson. Will says he's always late
and has to be told what to do constantly. He used to be a very
good worker, and always on time, but now . . . Will doesn't know
if he's become lazy or something else, but he's keeping his eyes
on him."

Fonda sighed. Problems with employees were easily the most
draining aspect of running a restaurant. "Who else?"

"There's the one you hired a little over two weeks ago. That . . . 
that North fellow. Corey or Corky is his name."

Fonda nodded. "I remember. A little strange and resisted the hair
net at first. Why a man keeps such long hair, I'll never
understand. And all those earrings . . . " Fonda shook his head.
"Still, it was him or nobody. It's getting so difficult to get
anyone to hire these days."

"Will doesn't think he'll work out. He's still on one month
probation, so we can get rid of him for any reason. He can't put
his finger on it just yet but that Corky fellow seems suspicious
to him. He's watching him closely. Some of the older guys have
also expressed a desire to see him leave." Stavros tilted his head 
toward the fish market and continued. "He seems shady to me." 

Fonda shook his head. "I'll have a look later. What time is his
shift over?"

"He works 6:00 to 3:00. Another thing, Will says he seems to get
a lot of visitors," Stavros shrugged. "I don't know why so many
people would want to socialize in a fish market. Something else
to think about."

Fonda nodded. "I'll watch him and talk to Will today . . . Corey,
not Corky," he corrected.

"Whatever," Stavros said as he walked into the main dining room
leaving Fonda to discuss something with one of the line cooks.


Trina had waited until Fonda was out of sight before leaning toward
Margie. "Okay, like, what the fuck is your deal?"

"What do you mean?" Margie asked, feigning surprise.

"Look, if last night messed with your head so much that you have
to babble on and on and act like a total bitch, I'll just take my
things and move out," Trina fumed.

"No. I don't want you to do that," Margie's eyes softened.
"You're my best friend. I'm sorry. Okay, last night was a little
different but I'm okay with it. Really. I guess I'm a little
nervous. I'm sorry, Trina. It's just that, I don't know. I'm
happy that you found a nice guy and maybe even a little jealous
too." 

"You? Jealous of *me*?" Trina asked incredulously.

"Yeah. What the hell kind of a statement is that? I mean, you
like, didn't even want to go out with this guy and the next thing
I know, you two are doing the nasty on the couch, screaming loud
enough to wake up everyone in The Village. I mean, God, Trina,"
Margie leaned closed and lowered her voice. "That was one hot
scene last night. I mean, not only is he nice and normal -- a
first for you, you know -- he's hot, too. *Yeah*, I was jealous."

Trina smiled inwardly. That she could make Margie, the most
beautiful woman she knew, jealous, gave her a satisfying feeling.
"Yeah, we were kinda into it, huh?"

"No shit, huh? I was watching for like twenty minutes and neither
one of you knew I was there. You two were fucking like animals,"
Margie winked and then continued. "And is he a great fuck or
what? I mean, I thought he was cute because I really get into the
strong, silent type, but that cock of his is huge. I'm having a
tough time sitting down today. He's hung like a fucking horse,"
Margie added in her usual tasteful and classy manner.

Trina snorted then quickly tried to stop as she saw Fonda heading
for their table.

"Here comes Trigger," Margie said, making a neighing sound.

Trina laughed again, covering her reddening face with her hands 
and recoving just as Fonda got to the table.

"So, what will it be for the two of you today? We have a broiled
snapper that is just delicious," he suggested.

"Just a salad for me, thanks," Trina smiled. "With a fat-free
vinaigrette."

"Me too . . . only I'll have the one with the grilled chicken
breast, with blue cheese dressing," Margie ordered, never one to
need to worry about calories.

Trina was thinking about how her friend could eat whatever she
wanted and never seem to gain a pound when her thoughts were
interrupted by the ring of a cell phone. She looked at Margie
expecting it to be hers. Fonda removed the phone from the clip at
his belt. "Fonda Daskalaikas."

"Yes. This afternoon at three? No, the calamari must be replaced
before then . . . I have a crowd who expects fresh calamari at
lunch." Fonda leaned back in his chair, running a hand through
his hair in agitation. His voice rose slightly. "If you cannot
deliver, we will use a different supplier. I cannot run my
business based on what you delivered this morning. Yes. Fine.
11:30, I expect to see the delivery then, not one second later."

Fonda ended the call and placed the cell phone on the table.
"Ladies, excuse me for that," he smiled sheepishly. "I'll be back
with the salads in a few minutes. How about a nice bowl of Tomato
Florentine soup to go with it? On the house." 

Trina smiled up at him. "Just a small cup for me, Fonda. Thanks."

"Oh, she might actually eat something today," Fonda teased as he
walked away.

Trina shrugged and giggled, feeling a little shy in front of
Fonda. She looked down and reached for his cell phone in
distraction, hoping her curtain of black hair hid her deep blush
from Margie. Trina glanced up at Margie and shrugged again.
"What's the harm in eating a little more today, right? I mean,
like, that big shoot is over with and I can reward myself, can't
I?"

"Seems like you got the best reward last night," Margie smirked. 

Trina smiled, playing with Fonda's cell phone. "There," she said,
putting the phone back on the table. "I changed his ring from the
boring one to "Ode to Joy" -- much more lively." 

Margie nodded, "Ode to Joy wouldn't happen to reflect a little on
how you feel with him," Margie needled, hoping to get Trina to
open up.

Their eyes met. "I'm sure, Margie. One night, a few hours, I
don't really know the guy, do I?" Trina breathed deeply, trying
to convince herself of just that. 




Chapter 10



Over the next week or so Fonda had wanted to spend some time with
Trina, but their conflicting schedules had made that a difficult
proposition, at best. The drug tests had been concluded, with a
little grumbling from the staff, and the results weren't due for
another couple of weeks. Fortunately, activity at the restaurant
had calmed down a bit.

Fonda and Trina did manage to squeeze in a few dates, though. 
A day at the Guggenheim -- his idea; a night dancing at a
club on 44th street -- her idea; a night at the movies -- agreed
to by both, but regretted soon after since they both agreed that
the film was horrible. Fonda felt they were becoming more
attracted to the other, talking to each other on the phone daily
and looking forward to their next date with the anticipation of
teenagers. Trina, too, began more and more to think of them as a
couple.

"Hey," Fonda stopped his brother in the kitchen. "I found out
what's going on with Jerome Jackson."

"What?"

"I talked to him the other day. Apparently he's going through a
divorce and there's a nasty custody battle for their kids."

"Oh, that's too bad," Stavros sympathized.

"Yeah. He apologized and said he'll try to get in sooner. I gave
him a couple of weeks off, with pay, to try to get things all
straightened out."

"You're so thoughtful," Stavros teased. "Say, have you seen any
more of that Trina?"

"Not much. We went out a couple of times last week and then
Sunday night. We had a great time, but that's about it. We've
talked on the phone just about every night this week, though. She
had an audition for the NYC ballet and was accepted, so her days
have been full and with me working here so much, it's been
difficult trying to fit in time together. She's going to come in
after rehearsal tonight and I'm going to take some time out to
join her for dinner."

"So, do you think things are getting serious?"

"I'm not sure," Fonda shrugged and scratched his head. "I'd like
to make things more serious, but Trina's tough to read. She's an
enigma. She rarely lets anything out; she's so guarded. But we
have a great time together, and I think she's starting to think
of us as a 'couple' now."

"What about the other one . . . the roommate?" Stavros grinned
lasciviously.

"Oh, she's a sex fiend."

"What do you mean?"

"Any time I see her, she's always grabbing my ass or rubbing her
hand on my crotch -- in public. It's disconcerting."

His younger brother laughed. "You have to lighten up. I wish I
had someone who looked like that grabbing me all the time."

"But it's not her I want. And I don't want to take any chances of
ruining what I could have with Trina."

"But she's gorgeous. You should be grateful for the attention."

Fonda shook his head. "Do you know what she did Tuesday night?
She showed up just as I was closing the restaurant and asked if I
could give her a ride home. Of course I said yes, and the next
thing I knew she unzipped me in the car and gave me a blow job
while I drove down 6th avenue."

"You're a lucky bastard," Stavros smiled.

"I could have gotten into an accident, or arrested, or something
like that," Fonda said excitedly. "I almost hit a taxi."

"So where did you come?"

"Don't be vulgar. . . . Twenty-third street," Fonda snickered.
"But I don't know what to do about her."

"I'd like to have your problems," Stavros said, heading into the
meat locker, leaving Fonda to finish making out his food order in
the office.

A few days later, Trina and Margie came into the restaurant at
lunch time. Fonda greeted them at the door and gave Trina a light
kiss on the lips. Margie walked by and brushed her fingertips
against his penis at the same time Trina had turned to throw her
back pack under a table. Fonda glared at Margie. Trina turned
just in time to catch the two locking eyes, Margie with a smug
look while Fonda seemed to seethe in anger. He recovered quickly,
turning his attention to Trina and placing a soft kiss on her
cheek while squeezing her hand. 

"Welcome ladies. No rehearsal this afternoon, Trina?" Fonda
asked.

"No. A couple of dancers have come down with some pulled muscles
so Madame Renault wanted to give everybody a couple of days to
rest. It's only three weeks until we open on Broadway, and she
wants everyone to be healthy for then, so we're getting a break."

"So, do you have any plans for tomorrow?"

Trina smiled and Margie rolled her eyes.

"No, what do you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking we could go out on my boat. Do you enjoy
sailing?"

"You have a boat? Why didn't you ever mention it?" Trina squealed
girlishly. "I love the water."

"I don't really think about it much. It's really my parents'
boat. I've only taken it out once this year. Stavros and my
father use it mostly. It's not very large . . . it's a thirty-foot 
C+C, built in 1981. We like it though. We're closed on
Sunday so if you wanted I'll leave early Saturday and we could
plan to leave Saturday afternoon and get back sometime Sunday
night or even Monday morning."

"Where will we sleep?"

"Oh, the boat has a master bedroom down below. It's very
comfortable."

Trina couldn't stifle a smile. Margie seethed and made no attempt
to hide it, but no one noticed.

"It sounds great. Where are we going?"

"Well, we don't have a lot of time. We could head out toward Long
Island or down the Jersey shore."

"I can't wait," she gushed.

"Oh! I just remembered!" Margie interrupted. "Guess who I saw
working at Fonda's market back behind the restaurant? Trina,
you'll love this. Corey! Remember Corey!" Margie squealed.

Trina glanced at Margie sideways.

"You know Corey?" Fonda turned to Margie. Trina shifted
uncomfortably in her seat. "The man with all the hair and
earrings?"

"Yeah, that's him. He's actually back there cleaning fish and
wrapping them up. Can you believe it?" Margie laughed overtly.
"He and Trina go way back. They're really close friends. Used to
be a lot closer, if you know what I mean. I convinced her to get
away from him, all the drug shit, you know." 

"Drug shit?" Fonda asked.

"Oh, hell yeah. He's into it deep. He got her stoned a few times.
I didn't like what it did to her so convinced her to dump him.
You guys still talk, though, don't you Trina?" Margie was
enjoying making things uncomfortable.

Trina glared at Margie. "We're just friends, Margie. And yes, I
talk to him occasionally. In case you were wondering, Corey just
checked out of rehab. I'm glad he's got a job doing something
legit." Trina turned to Fonda, wanting to offer an excuse for her
past. Stubbornly, she closed her mouth and looked away.

Margie huffed, shrugging her shoulders. "Yeah, whatever. If you
ask me, I wouldn't trust him at all."

Fonda sat back deep in thought and stared at Margie. "Why do you
say that?"

"He's been into drugs way too long. He also hasn't stopped
hanging around with the same old friends that he used to shoot up
with." Margie offered.

"You know this for a fact?" Fonda asked.

"Oh yeah, Fonda. No doubt," Margie nodded as she slipped her shoe
off and began rubbing her foot along Fonda's calf.

Fonda looked around nervously while Trina cleared her throat.
"Yeah, well, I'd like to give the guy the benefit of a doubt. He
hasn't exactly had the greatest life, you know."

Fonda turned back to Trina. "I hope you are right. I wonder if
Corey studied his job application thoroughly. If he did, he would
have noticed the clause about random drug testing. We have to do
that now. Liability is too high in this industry and we can't
have people working for us who can't focus completely."

Margie laughed. "Ssshyeah, right. Especially with all the sharp
knives and shit."

Trina rolled her eyes and stared at Margie. "Don't you have a job
to go to today?"

"Not until this afternoon. Working half-days the rest of the
week. Fuck the boss."

"Oh, is that how you're getting all this time off?" Trina asked
snippily.

She laughed. "No, but I might if you think it'd get me a raise."

Trina turned back to Fonda. He seemed withdrawn. Maybe Margie had
upset him by mentioning the relationship she had with Corey. It
occurred to her that maybe Fonda was worried about her past
sexual relations with other men. She always insisted on condoms
and had never had a reason to see the doctor about anything
suspicious. She liked to think she kept herself exceptionally
healthy, especially in her line of work. But Fonda wouldn't know
that unless she told him so.

Things had been going so well with him today until Margie had to
bring up Corey. Trina knew that Margie was attracted to Fonda and
would like a repeat of the first night's activities, but there
was no way that she was going to allow that to happen. She was,
for probably the first time in her life, settling into an adult
relationship and the last thing she wanted was to screw things up
with Fonda. Well, she smiled to herself, we'll have all weekend
together at sea, with no Margie, no Corey, no restaurant, and no
dance troupe for miles around.

"If you'll excuse me, ladies, it's starting to get busy in here.
I have to get to other customers," Fonda stood and left, but not
before leaning over and kissing Trina on the cheek.

"He's just like, so head over heels for you," Margie said, now
choosing Trina's leg to play footsie with.

"You think so?" Trina smiled broadly.

"Absolutely. The way the two of you look at each other. You're
just so cute." Margie sighed as a wave of jealousy washed over
her.

"You know," Trina said, taking a bite of her salad. "I've never
really felt this way about someone before. I'm kind of scared,
you kn . . . hey, what are you doing?" Trina re-crossed her legs.

"I don't know. You just look so cute there. It's a shame I have
to go to work, today."

"Well, you wouldn't have gotten anywhere. I'm pissed at you for
bringing up all that shit about Corey. And what the hell was the
fucking deal with playing footsie with Fonda under the table? I
couldn't help but notice his reaction to you. I don't think he
liked it," Trina gloated.

"I'm sorry," she removed her foot from Trina's leg. "I guess I'm
a little jealous of the two of you. And I still have the hots for
him. I guess I should warn you . . . " Margie began, unsure of
where she was going.

"Warn me about what?" Trina asked in alarm.

Margie paused and bit down on her lip. She leaned across the
table closer to Trina and spoke in a low voice, "Fonda has made
some moves on me, Trina. I didn't want to tell you but I think
there are a few things you should know about him. Hell, I
wouldn't be surprised if he was fucking five more women behind
our backs." Margie leaned back in her chair, shaking her head in
disgust.

"What the fuck do you mean 'fucking other women behind *our*
backs?' And what kind of moves, Margie? Is he just being nice to
you or has he actually felt you up?" Trina strained to keep her
voice down. Jealously welled-up from deep inside her. She threw
her fork down with a clatter.

Margie sighed overtly before leaning forward again, "I'm sorry,
Trina. You're my best friend. I love you, you know that. That's
why I feel the need to protect you from a man like him . . . "

"Since when? I can fuckin' take care of myself, Margie." 

"Just listen to me. Since that night, you know, *that* night,
Fonda has come onto me several times. We fucked three more times
and, well, we've done a few other things. He likes to have his
dick sucked while tooling around town in that little sports car.
I'm sorry, Trina."

Trina felt the icy grip of hysteria sweep through her. The color
drained from her face and all of her muscles tightened as she
stared at Margie, imagining her friend's head buried in Fonda's
lap, her hair pooled across his thighs, Fonda pounding her mouth
with his orgasm. Margie managed to have sex with Fonda more times
than Trina had. In fact, because of her practice schedule, Margie
had found a lot of time to spend with Fonda. The bitch. 

"Why are you telling me all this?" Trina asked angrily.

"You need to know, sweetie."

"Bullshit. Five minutes ago you were like, 'He's head over heels
for you,' and, 'you're so cute together.' Now you're trying to
protect me from that 'kind' of man. You just said *you* still
have the hots for him."

"I...I just don't want to see you get hurt," Margie stammered.

"And you," Trina continued angrily, her eyes wide and boring
straight into her friend. "Can't you for once keep your fucking
legs closed and not fuck every man you meet? I mean, one of these
days you're going to have to grow up and stop being a whore."

Trina stared at Margie, pushing her chair back quickly. The chair
crashed to the floor, drawing attention from a few of the other
patrons. Stavros looked up from his station near the bar. Trina
reached for her backpack and turned toward the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, hon. I just thought you should know, " Margie tried
to hide a smirk as she called after her.

Trina raised her hand in a gesture meant to dismiss Margie. She
fought through a veil of tears to find Fonda.


continued in chapter 11 (to be posted in a couple of days)

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Email us at John3365a@aol.com or VBwrites@aol.com
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Copyright (C) 2000 John A and Virago Blue
All rights reserved.

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