Three months was the duration of time, Lulu Marx had spent avoiding a sexual relationship with her boyfriend. Wait...had she just referred to Dennison Lord as her boyfriend. Three months, close to eighty dates, yes sometimes they occasionally had two dates in one day, breakfast or lunch the first part of the day and always dinner. There were no accidental overnight visits at either apartment. They had come close a dozen times or more, falling asleep during movies and baseball games. Then there was the one night he brought her soup when she was confined to her bed by the flu and the kisses he gave did little to clear her congested head, but they confirmed her body was still able to reach the cusp of a climax. In the end Dennison had backed away, citing a need to drive to his parents' West Nyack home as the excuse to flee temptation.

"Celibacy is evil," Gita shifted the nodding infant in her arms and placed him in the center of Lulu's bed. 

As much as she tried, Lulu couldn't keep her eyes off the small babe. He was ten weeks old, bright eyed and full of life, just like his parents Gita and Raj. He had a thick head of jet black hair, a blemish free olive complexion, and the cutest fingers and toes made for one godmother to enjoy tickling. Her digits drifted to his bare feet and for a moment she lost her cares in just being Auntie Lu.

Gita saw through her rouse and carefully lifted her friend's fingers from the toes of her child, "So when's this special dinner?"

Grudgingly she pulled away from the child and rested her head against the headboard, "Tomorrow night." An awkward silence remained and Lulu knew her best bud was waiting for her to fill the space with more details, "I'm making my Crème Brule."

Gita snorted, "And your proverbial new cherry will be popped after he tastes that."

"Must you be so vulgar," She leaned towards the baby, "Please don't have a potty mouth like your mommy."

Lulu didn't say a word as her friend slipped closer and placed her head on her shoulder, "What are you scared of?"

She wasn't ready to share her innermost thoughts and fears with Gita, no matter how many years she had called her a friend. Stereotypes and myths were hard to release, Lulu held preconceived and possibly racial notions about what it would be like to be intimate with a man who was pigment challenged. She took a deep breath and let her concerns ease past her lips, "What if his dick is little?"

There was a pregnant pause long overdue for a stint in labor and delivery before Gita decided to speak, "White boys eat pussy...you're golden..." She shrugged her shoulders oblivious to the look on her friend's face, "At least you can come that way...right?"

Lulu was stunned, flabbergasted, and a little intrigued by the prospect. She shook off her momentary arousal, "You're not helping Gita." She slipped from the bed and returned to folding the laundry from the dryer.

Gita made herself comfortable in the fortress of pillows and covered her body with one of the blankets from the bounty fresh basket, "So his ding - a - ling is toddler sized," She pressed on even when a glare intended to inflict mortal injury was leveled in her direction, "You're obviously not dating him for Mr. Nasty time," Her eyes grew heavier, "You guys talk about that pornographic poetry you like to read, his mother is the president of your fan club," She sat up, stretched and yawned, "Most importantly I haven't seen you smile like this in years." She settled into the mattress, "You can always get drunk and let him slip it in the wrong hole." She closed her eyes and sleepily mumbled, "Everything's big when it finds its way back there."

Lulu took the baby from the bed and turned off the lights so Gita could some much needed rest. She brushed her lips across the child's forehead, "Your mommy's too smart for her own good."

~`~

"It's just a date Denny, and Lulu is just a girl." Heath was the devil seated on Dennison's left shoulder. He took a sip of his drink and contemplated which appetizer to force his older brother to pay for. He had called his brother and friend for a much neededpep talk but the two ungrateful bastards draining his wallet.

Raul returned to the table, smelling of fresh soap and the perfume their waitress obviously doused every inch of her skin in before she came to work, "He's a punk Heath...won't even touch her."

Dennison watched as the men detailed the happenings of his relationship as if he were invisible, "Have you seen her Raul, tiny little thing, but those hips," Heath sat back, "If I wasn't married..."

"Both of you can shut the hell up," He was tired of listening to their insults, "Lulu is with me and I would appreciate if your eyes would stay off her assets."

His former co-worker chimed in, "Lulu would benefit from the appreciation of her assets by her boyfriend."

Was he her boyfriend? The two had not discussed titles. They were still enjoying their time together. He traveled between Nyack and the city for work and pleasure. He joined her for early morning cups of coffee at her favorite little deli. They talked over bages, cream cheese, and steaming cups of black. Sometimes she appeared in the doorway of his office, veggie pizza in hand, and a smile on her lips. He had grown used to spending time with her. He needed to see her daily and his mind began to wonder what a deeper relationship with her would mean. She caused him to sport a hard -on for their entire second date. While he had become accustomed to shielding his wood from her eyes, things had gotten much worse. Touches excited his body. Kisses caused his hands to slip lower than her waist. Late night phone conversations urged him to take their discussions beyond poetry, music, and the Wall Street Journal to the multitude of positions he desired to guide her limbs through.

Heath grabbed a handful of peanuts from the bowl in the center of the table, "Your ass is hostile, you need to get laid," He bent his head lower and dropped his voice to a mere whisper, "Has she even sung in the mike yet?" Raul and Dennison looked on confused. Heath raised his balled fist to his mouth and stuck his tongue in his cheek, "Munched the Johnson..." He repeated the motion, "Slob on the knob."

Dennison fought against the bile rising in his throat, "You're nasty."

The youngest Lord sibling was ready with a comeback, "You're sexually frustrated."

He was but he refused to come clean to Ren and Stimpy. He wanted nothing more than to lock Lulu behind closed doors and spend an entire weekend becoming intimately acquainted with every bit of her body. He wanted to know if the dimples in her cheeks deepened when his name was on her tongue...did the sweetness between her thighs taste better than his favorite concoction at Cold Stone...could she handle every inch of what he was packing, "I'm not having this conversation with the both of you," He waved the waitress over to the table, "Let's just order already."

Heath's eyes brightened, "Wait," He snapped his fingers, "You haven't...oh shit...why didn't I think of it..."

Raul sat up, "What am I missing."

Dennison countered, "Heath don't you dare."

Heath cleared his throat, "You're scared she's going to run when she sees the Magnum XL."

"Kill me now." He was officially better off dead than trapped with the world's worst brother and the shittiest friend.

"I thought black girls liked big sticks."

Scratch that, Raul was the world's stupidest friend. The bubbly blonde finally made her way to the table, pen and pad in hand prepared to take their order. Dennison interrupted her before she could ask, "We'll take the check." There was no way in hell he was spending one more second with Hugh Hefnot and Bum Jeremy.