Message-ID: <26520asstr$970009815@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: john3365a@aol.com (John A) Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-Original-Message-ID: <20000926102350.16246.00001777@ng-cg1.aol.com> 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 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, RuiJorge 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) Like it so far? Let us know! Where do you think the story should go? Email us at John3365a@aol.com or VBwrites@aol.com -------------------------------------------------------------- Copyright (C) 2000 John A and Virago Blue All rights reserved. --------------- Visit our story sites and with twelve visits get a free hummel figurine* http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/JohnA/www/ http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ViragoBlue/www/ *while supplies last -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+