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The Pimp begins to take control.

You remember I told you something went missing from my room?"

"Yes."

"Well, I know a little 22 year old bitch who has that and some other stuff to atone for." She said and folded her lips down over her straw to take a long drink.

"Oh, OK, I get it. Well on that thought, maybe with Thursday night we could finish settling certain scores ourselves, but if you'd rather not because of your birthday ..."

"No, no," she was afraid now that her seriousness was at test, "let's..." a sigh and eyes closed, "... Let's get this done. I told you I'd do what it takes, now let's get it taken care of."

"You sure?" She nodded, so he added, "OK, I'll need you to write something down that you need to have ready and typed that afternoon..."

On Thursday, early, she was at a class, which he knew about, when he went by her place. He wanted to set some things up. His knock was met by a sleepy-eyed roomie wearing only a baseball shirt, unbuttoned but held together, and skinny yellow panties. She waved fumblingly for him to come in and stepped aside for him. Seeing it was him she no longer felt the need to even try to hold the shirt closed, but still did keep her eyes pinched thight against the streaming light of day. He explained what he wanted to do there just then and Lynette, in a weak version of her usual prance, escorted him to the bedroom to point out the appropriate drawers in the dresser. Lynette bent to open one drawer for him and the shirt edged up over her buttocks. He swore to himself at the sightly view she gave him - albeit clad in panties, this was a fine ass and he could just make out the shapes of what else was there. He sorted through picking out the clothes he needed the girly to have for the night, and lay an outfit out on the bed with a note that simply said 'wear these'.

"Okay, Lynette, I'm off, thanks." He called into her room, but from the hall he teasingly added, "I uh, I heard that y'all had some sort of burglar who is being brought to justice tomorrow ..."

"Ha Ha!" Sardonically and tiredly the reply eked out of the dark bedchamber, then, "Hey, come here."

Not knowing why he did as he was bidden, "Hmm?"

"You remember what I told you I was working on?"

"Hmm?"

"Well, my pussy. I wanted her vibrator to try to train my pussy to accept bigger things, I mean it's a big vibe, and all."

"Uh, does that really work that way?" He questioned but with a skeptical smirk. He had stepped inside enough to see her, shirt now off, laying face down. The bed seemed gigantic with her form in it.

"Well," she rolled her head his way, then rolled and scooted to lay on her side propped on an elbow, "I don't know. You'd have to see to tell me." Already exposing her small breasts for him she then reached down to her panties and moved the crotch aside, "Can you come look?"

Always amazed at these two girls' openness he did climb onto the bed to get a look and using his finger he probed her labia apart. Well, for starters her labia were ... looser and closed better over her inner vagina. He hummed, "Hmm," as he feigned an analytic aire for a second and, yes, it seemed her opening, though still only wide enough to accept a couple of fingers, was doing so fleshier. He was still skeptical that this was the way to go about what she sought, but her self articulation seemed to be perhaps bringing some ... swelling. He told her it seemed that she maybe had made a little difference, "Is your boyfriend helping you at all?"

"Well, he's sorta unaware of the, um, project" He wasn't used to Lynette's voice's morning tones. Normally higher pitch, this morning sound was comparatively husky, perhaps smoky, "besides his size is not really a challenge."

"So are you still going to work on it?"

"With your help," she lay back still holding the panty aside, "If you'd oblige?"

He answered by simply opening his jeans and climbing onto her fully. When his already attentive penis made the barest contact with her he paused, "How about a condom?"

"We don't have time and I don't have one, let's just do this."

"Are you sure?"

"Mr.

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