Lincoln Loud was the man with the plan, the guy with the pie, the dude with the crude 'tude. He was a bunch of other things too, but the most important thing that he was was this: Happy. He was a happy guy with a happy life. He wasn't perfect and neither was his life, but that was okay. A lot of people walking around out there are unhappy either with their existence as a whole or with key features of it, such as their job or their marriage. To paraphrase Tom Jones, the kind of the lounge lizards: It's not unusual to be unhappy. You can't walk through life with a big smile plastered on your face all the time. Like the song says, everybody plays the fool sometimes (there's no expectation to the rule). There's nothing wrong with being unhappy here and there, but some people are terminal sad sacks. Boo hoo my wife, boo hoo I can't get no respect, boo hoo my cancer hurts.

Okay, that last one was a dark and tasteless joke (since cancer patients totally have every right and justification for not being ecstatic twenty four seven) but the point stood: Some people were just miserable. Lincoln wasn't one of them and, to be honest, never had been. He had his moments of pain and suffering just like everyone else, but he considered himself a pretty even-keeled person. Even stable people like him, however, can always be happier. It's like…hmmm…eating. Depending on how much you eat, you can either be content - as in no longer hungry but not exactly stuffed - or you can be pleasantly full. You know that feeling, right? The one you get after eating a huge Thanksgiving dinner. You're sitting on the couch with a big full belly and you feel like you're about to lapse into a coma. Putting aside the fact that overeating isn't good for your health (or your finances), that's a good feeling, isn't it?

Being full of happiness was the same. Lincoln had been content for most of his life - not so stuffed that he had to waddle and take frequent naps but not complaining, either.

Then Carol stripped for him and all of that changed.

Yep, the Carolcon stripper saga is back again.

But of course it is. That's life, right? You don't get a cinematic "happy ending" that fades to black, leaving everything static and unchanged forever and ever amen. Life is constantly evolving, constantly flowing, like a river. There were no jump cuts, no flashforwards, and at no point did you ride off into the sunset. Life is a minute by minute proposition. The Carolcoln saga would carry on for eternity, he imagined, as he didn't plan for them to ever break up or drift apart.

But then things changed.

Life is like a game of baseball, and sometimes, it throws you a curve that you never see coming, no matter how wise or experienced you are. That wasn't to say that Lincoln was either one of those things. He liked to think that he was smarter than the average bear, but he was still only an eleven year old boy. A smart kid is still a kid. Take Lisa, for instance. She spoke and thought like a fifty year old college professor, but she still cried when she stubbed her toe and always got cranky when she didn't take a nap. If she was feeling sad, a juice box and her favorite stuffed animal (an Albert Einstein plushie) never failed to cheer her up, and if she got a cut or a scrape while working in her lab, she always felt better with a Spongebob Band-Aid than she did with a regular Band-Aid. She had the intellect of an adult, but the emotions and maturity of a toddler. You can skip a lot of things in life, but you can't skip basic mental and emotional development.

In other words, you can be born the smartest person in the world, but you still need to learn how to crawl and walk. That's just unavoidable.

Of course, Lincoln liked to think of himself as smart because, hey, who doesn't? No one revels in being a dumbass. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Life blindsides you sometimes, and it blindsided Lincoln Loud on a cool autumn afternoon in the weeks leading up to Halloween. It was a chill, blustery evening with a needling westerly wind that knocked red and brown leaves from their treetop perches and scattering them across the already leafy ground and pavement. The sun had all but set behind the horizon and the last amber afterglow of day painted the sky with layers of orange and purple. Shadows pooled in the front yards facing the streets and jack o'lanterns glowed on front stoops, their fiery smiles flickering in the cold breeze.

Lincoln pulled his jacket closed at the throat and thrust his hands into his pockets, his head slightly lowering and his shoulders bunching unconsciously against the chill. School had just let out and already it was almost dark. That was the one thing that Lincoln hated about this time of year. He loved corn mazes, trick or treating, piping hot apple cider, pumpkins, even the nip in the air, but he despised the fact that the sun set so flipping early. Unlike his younger sister Lucy - who was a total suburban Hot Topic goth - Lincoln was a creature of the day. He liked it bright, clear, and warm. Bright was the most important part of that equation, though. He could deal with cold, but darkness and dreariness? Uh, yeah, no, you can go ahead and miss me with that nonsense, please and thank you.

He had been on his way home when Carol texted him asking him to come over to her house. She said "It's important."

Most days, Lincoln stopped by to get a dance from Carol before heading home, but lately she had been busy with…well, something. He didn't know what it was and hadn't asked. He trusted her entirely and never once thought that she would ever hurt or betray him. If she had something to do, she had something to do. It was as simple and innocent as that. That she had something important to tell him came as a bit of a surprise, and as he made his way to her house that day, he found himself beginning to worry. It's hard to decipher tone through text, but there was something ominous about her message, or at the very least, sober. Whatever it was, Lincoln decided, it was serious.

Lincoln quickened his step and hurried along the sidewalk, a thousand possibilities racing through his head, some of them good, some of them bad. I broke my ankle today and my doctor says I'll never strip again; Linc…I won the lotto, now I'm richer than Elon Musk; I borrowed money from the mob and if I don't pay it back, we're gonna get whacked. That last possibility skated the line between "oh my god, terrible" and "wow, that's kind of cool." The mafia fascinated Lincoln. He saw the movie GoodFellas on TV a while back and it blew him away. Up to that point, he associated the mafia with The Godfather - tuxedos, family, respect, really lame and formal stuff that wasn't interesting. But the guys in GoodFellas were straight up hoods. It showed a more grounded and realistic version of workaday gangsters who were constantly scheming, backstabbing, plotting, and putting in work.

After that, he played GTA III on a PS2 emulator. In the beginning, you get to work for a few mobsters and Lincoln loved it. He got so into it that he'd drive around in one of the cars mobsters used and pretend he was one of them, He held his head high because hey, I work for Tony, who the fuck are you? Give me lip and I'mma whack you.

If Carol was in debt to the mafia, maybe he'd get to meet a real mobster. If he was really lucky, he might even get an autograph from the guy right before he broke his and Carol's legs.

The light waned as Lincoln entered the otuskirts of Carol's neighborhood and the wind picked up, cutting through him like the steely blade of a frozen knife. It wasn't that cold, but he was still in summer mode. He was kind of like an old car that took a while to heat up in the winter: He needed time to acclimate himself to the change in temperature. By the time he got used to the cold, it was already spring, and by the time he came to terms with the harsh and pounding heat of summer, it was time to grab the snow shovel from the garage. He lowered his head even more and walked faster still in an attempt to generate more heat. That backfired when he began to sweat, then got tired and slowed his roll. Now he was cold and shivering.

Damn.

Finally, at long last, he reached Carol's house. He went up the flagstone walk, climbed the porch steps, and rang the bell: The melodic chime echoed through the house like the sweet tolling of a church bell proclaiming the hour, or maybe the marriage of one soul to another. While he waited, Lincoln studied the pair of jack o lanterns flanking the door, a fond smile painting across his lips. Each one had a silly face and glowed with the gentle light of an electric candle. He and Carol carved them in her kitchen the other day, laughing, kissing, and being goofy the whole time. They wore aprons and oven mitts and in the moment, it felt like they were an old married couple who had been together for so long that they knew each other entirely and were as comfortable with each other as they were with themselves.

This is the life, Lincoln remembered thinking happily.

Over the last couple of weeks, his accidental harem had swelled to include Stella and Lori, and while he felt very strong for all of his girls, Carol was and would always be first. She was, after, his first in everything. The first girl he kissed, the first girl he loved, the first girl to let him go all the way -

Or was that Lori? He thought back and tried to remember which one he technically lost his virginity to, but that was, like, three chapters ago and he couldn't freaking remember. Either way, the point remained: Carol occupied a special place at the center of his heart, and if he could choose to only marry one of his harem, with the rest being official wives slash side pieces, it would be Carol. She would be his wife and, if he could help it, the mother of his first child. He doubted he and Lori would ever have kids, by the way, since they were siblings and siblings having children together is a good way to pollute the gene could always adopt or Lori could help raise the others' kids. He didn't want her to feel like she was a slave to someone else's children while being denied her own - that was mega mondo fucked up - but if she was happy with that, okay.

And if she wanted to get pregnant by someone else…well…

Could he really be upset by that? He had three girls pawing at his crotch. If Lori decided she wanted to see Bobby on the side, it would only be fair of Lincoln to let her and not give her grief about it. He didn't know how to act with a harem but he wasn't about to be some selfish dictator who demanded that his girls live exclusively for him. If it was okay for him to have multiple girls, it was okay for them to have other guys, in his opinion. You know what they say about the goose and the gander.

Did he relish the thought of one of his girls being with another guy? No, not really, but they had learned to accept the thought of their guy being with other girls, so it wouldn't be fair for him to refuse doing the same.

Then again, what he and his harem shared was special. They weren't just a bunch of sex perverts cohabitating for easy access to even easier sex, they all cared for each other. They were something of a family, as twisted as that might sound. Every couple of days, they all got together either at the Loud house or at Carol's place, and they spent the whole afternoon hanging out. They laughed, had good conversations, and, really, just had a blast all around. They had become extremely close over the past couple of weeks and Lincoln didn't think they could just replicate that dynamic with anyone who came along. They had chemistry and whether or not it was strange or twisted or even sinful, they made it work. It wouldn't work if they added random people.

Well, there was Clyde.

So much had happened recently that he had completely forgotten that Lori wasn't really his anymore. See, a while back, Lori fell in love with Clyde and now they were an item. So, actually, she wouldn't be getting pregnant by Lincoln, as they didn't have sex anymore. She was doing that with Clyde. Clyde came to Lincoln's harem meets every so often but he was busy with his own life and with Lori. She was there more often than he was, but she wasn't exactly a fixture anymore.

That left Carol and Stella.

Or, if you looked at the harem as a family unit regardless of the sex, it incluided both Lori and Clyde. Counting Clyde was part of his "harem" sounded strange and made him a little uncomfortable, but weren't they like brothers? Hadn't they always been, save for that period where he fell under Rusty's evil influence? They were as thick as thieves…which was a strange expression, when you got right down to it. What did that even mean? How were thieves thick? Thick as in…densely packed? Stupid? It didn't matter, he guessed, but it still made him wonder. Whatever the case, he and Clysewere already family so it wasn't that weird.

Anyway, he rang the bell again and Carol appeared in her usual uniform of a blue blouse, plaid skirt, and high socks pulled to her knees. She looked wholesome and pure; you'd never know in a million years that she was a stripper with killer movies. Then again, if you passed Lincoln on the street, you wouldn't know that he was a total perv with a butt fetish who loved it when Carol squatted on his face. He looked cute and wholesome but he wasn't. Looks can be deceiving, is what he was saying.

Carol smiled and stepped aside. Lincoln crossed the threshold and took his jacket off. "I came as fast as I could."

"I know," Carol said, "you always do."

Lincoln shot her a faux dirty look and she laughed. She padded over on bare feet, took his face in her hands, and kissed him affectionately on the tip of his nose. "You're cute." She stood up straighter and a serious expression flickered across her face. "Come on, we need to talk."

Here it was.

The moment of truth.

Time for Lincoln to find out what the deal was.

He and Carol went into the living room and sat on the couch. Carol turned to face him, brushed her hair back, and took a deep breath. Lincoln could sense hesitation on her part, and laid a comforting hand on her knee. "What is it?" he asked encouragingly.

"I have some…well…news."

She didn't meet his eyes as she spoke, and Lincoln's heart began to race. His first thought was that she was pregnant. They were always careful when they had sex - she was on the pill and took Plan B every time he finished inside of her - but accidents do happen. The only foolproof method of avoiding pregnancy is abstinence. That's what the religious types who didn't believe in sex ed said, and as much as you might want to make fun of them, they're 100 percent right. You can't win the game without playing the game. Unless your name is Mary. She won the jackpot and didn't even enter the lotto. Of course, not everyone is Mary, and not everyone is called to carry the Lord's child. No matter how careful you are in matters of sex, there's always a chance that something can get through. That's the whole purpose of sperm cells, after all, to get to that sweet Cadbury egg deep in -

He was getting off track again.

"What news?" he asked quickly. "Are you…?"

Carol picked up on his meaning and shook her head. Lincoln let out a sigh of relief and swiped the back of his hand across his forehead with a dramatic flourish. Honestly, he didn't know how to feel. On the one hand, he kind of liked the thought of Carol having his baby. In fact, he liked it a lot. The idea of them being married and raising a child together possessed an almost sexual appeal - God, don't tell me I have a pregnancy fetish now. On the other hand, he was only eleven, a kid. He wasn't ready to have the responsibility of a child just yet. He wanted it…just not right now.

"What is it, then?" he asked.

"Well," Carol said, "you know I've been taking online classes through the University of Arizona, right?"

Lincoln nodded. Carol had, just as she said, been taking online college courses. That was part of the reason she stripped: Even going to school on the internet is expensive as frick. You know, Lincoln wasn't very political, but two of the biggest issues he kept hearing people talk about were student loan debt and healthcare costs. Maybe he was wrong and didn't know what he was talking about, but it seemed to him that the easiest way to take care of both those things was to just cut costs. Does college really need to be so expensive? Do textbooks have to cost 150 bucks a pop? Do IV bags - plastic and sterile water you can slap together for a buck or two - really need to run the patient fifty dollars? I mean, come on, he was just a kid and even he could see how that was screwed up.

Maybe it wasn't that easy, though.

"So," Carol said, "to make a long story short…I decided to switch to on campus learning."

Really? Huh, why -?

That's when it hit him.

"You're moving to Arizona?" he blurted.

Carol flicked her eyes to her lap. "Yeah," she said.

For a long time, Lincoln sat there, jaw slack and mind racing. Carol was leaving? No, that wasn't possible…it wasn't part of the plan. She was going to stay here and…and…and…

What?

Honestly, Lincoln hadn't given too much thought to the future. When he conjured it up in his mind's eye, he did so in broad strokes. He saw him and his girls - maybe Lori and Clyde too - sharing a big house in the suburbs, where they were living as one big, blended family. He saw them wearing nice clothes, having everything they wanted (when they wanted it), and never having to worry about things like money or how the bills were going to be paid. He didn't think about the little details, the vital ones, like how they were going to pay for everything, or what road, exactly, they would take to reach that sepia toned dream like promised land. He never stopped to consider that Carol might go to college, or that Stella might one day as well. Stella was shoo in for college: She was smart and Asian. If she didn't go to college, it'd be kind of weird lol.

But no, seriously, Stella had big dreams and mentioned going to college when she was older. Lincoln knew that and had accepted it, but he never really thought of it. He didn't know what he was going to do - college or a trade school - but he was, indeed, going to do something. Therefore, his harem couldn't always be together.

Still, the thought of not having Carol around…

Carol took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "It''ll only be for a year or two," she said in an attempt to cheer him up.

"Two years?" Lincoln jerked.

She nodded. "I know it sounds bad, but it's what I have to do. For my future." She stopped and Lincoln braced himself, suddenly knowing, as if by telepathy, what was going to come next. "I think maybe it would be best if we…you know…"

Carol trailed off, leaving the thought heavy and unfinished between them. Lincoln's brain supplied the rest of it, however. I think, maybe, it would be best if we saw other people.

Was that what she was saying?

"Break up?" he asked.

Even as he registered the hurt in his voice, he realized that this was inevitable. In the back of his mind, he always knew that what he and Carol had wasn't meant to last. She would one day give up stripping, or she would want to find someone closer to her own age. He allowed himself to get carried away with thoughts of forever but in some way, on some level, he knew that forever would likely never come.

He was a temporary pleasure for her, even if she wouldn't admit it. Did she ever, even for a second, intend to be with him, to really be with him? He didn't know, but something in his heart told him that she didn't, and really, maybe he felt the same way. Or maybe he didn't, and he was just presumptuous. Then again, isn't every lovestruck boy and girl? They all thought their eighth and ninth grade relationships would last forever, but they were lucky if they reached second semester.

Lincoln was no different, he figured. He just assumed that he and Carol would one day be married, have children, and never waver from their love for and devotion to one another. That wasn't realistic, though, not for her and, honestly, probably not for him either. Chances were, as he grew up and got older, he and Carol would drift apart. It was inevitable.

It was far, far too early to be thinking about forever, he reckoned.

"I guess," Carol said in a whisper. "I just…"

Lincoln took a deep, fortifying breath. "I understand. I really do. It probably is for the best."

She smiled through misty eyes, like the sun peeking through rain storm clouds. "I knew you would." She cupped his cheek in her hand. "You're amazing."

Her praise made Lincoln blush.

"On the bright side," Carol said, "I've been training Stella a lot more lately. That way I can still make you happen even though it won't be through me."

Lincoln smiled. Stella was good, but she wasn't Carol. Carol moved like music and poetry combined, hypnotic and enchanting and every other adjective you could possibly come up with. Stella, however, had proven to be a fast learner. When she began, she was awkward and clumsy, and she reminded him of that scene in Bambi where Bambi's slipping on the ice. It was cute and endearing in its own right, but he would never describe it as sexy or sensual the way he would Carol. Over the last couple of months, however, she had become almost as good, and with a little more spit and polish, she would get the rest of it down pat.

"She has really big shoes to fill," Lincoln pointed out.

"Oh, she'll fill them all right," Carol said with a fond smile, "she's my protege, after all. I won't rest until she's even better than I am." She pinched Lincoln's cheek. "All for you, Lincy."

He laughed and pulled away from her. She laughed too, and then they were kissing, his fingers stroking her silky hair and her warm hands slipping up his shirt. She ran her palms over his bare chest and he traced the gentle curve of her throat. She swirled her tongue around his and he skimmed his teeth across her lower lip. They pulled apart and smiled at each other, their faces blushing deep shades of red and they chests rising and falling with the winded swell of their unsteady breathing, Carol tenderly caressed his cheek and Lincoln's heart thumped and pounded in his chest. "You'll always be my favorite customer," she said.

Lincoln smiled. "And you'll always be my dancing queen."

She laughed. "Not always. One day I'll be too old and stiff to dance."

"You'll still be the best," he assured her.

"Not when I'm done with Stella. I'm really into teaching her. It's a lot of fun molding someone in your image." She giggled. "My goal is to make her so good that she'll run the Rumpus Room one day."

Lincoln seriously doubted that Stella would ever want to strip professionally. Stella, despite enjoying dancing for Lincoln, was a modest girl from a modest family. Now, it might be considered "racist" or a "stereotype" to say that Asian people are hyper focused on things like honor and academics, and of course it kind of is when you sit there and say that all Asians - every single last one of them from China to Japan to Laos to Vietnam - are one way, but it is not a stereotype to say that owing to culture, many Asians are. Stella's family was among them. They were normal and lovely people who were as American as apple pie and ate tacos, pizza, and burgers probably more often than they did stir fry and fried rice, but they came from a culture where respect and scholastic endeavors came before almost anything else. And the thing is: Lincoln agreed with it. Their way wasn't strange or backwards: It was superior. Any society that disregards respect, honor, and academic achievement…that's the one that's backwards.

Anyway, Stella's family was traditional and conservative, so the thought of Stella becoming a stripper was out of the question. Her parents would die of shame, and Stella probably would too.

Then again, maybe he was wrong. He had shown through his meditations on his and Carol's eventual outcome that he wasn't all that great at peering into the future. He liked to think that he was, but so far, all of the big brain predictions he had made had turned out to be wrong. If he had a crystal ball, he wasn't very good at reading it, but let's be honest, he didn't. At best he had a bowling ball: Solid with three little holes that you couldn't see into even with one of those tiny keychain flashlights. Do they still make those? Mom had one on her keychain when he was really little, and from what she and Dad said, she'd had it since she was a kid in the nineties. It finally gave up the ghost and died a year or two ago and Lincoln couldn't remember seeing any in the store.

They probably didn't make them. They were a relic of the past. Back in the nineties, you needed stuff like little flashlights because there weren't smart phones. Young people really do underestimate how much stuff smartphones replaced. Calculators, radios, flashlights, just…a ton of stuff.

Anyway, where was he?

Oh, right, him being a piss poor mystic. He had no way of knowing for sure what Stella would do with her life, so it was very possible that she really would wind up dancing at The Rumpus Room. If she did, she would dominate the place.

"You think she could?" he asked.

Carol tilted her head to the side and scrunched her lips in thought. "Yeah," she finally declared, "I do. She'll be amazing. She still has a way to go but I'm going to be working with her extra hard until I leave."

"When are you leaving?" Lincoln asked.

"A few weeks," Carol said, "so I'll have time. Extra time, in fact, since I'm not doing online school for the time being." She leaned over, picked up her cell phone from the coffee table, and swiped her thumb across the screen. "In fact, I have her coming over later on tonight around seven. We're going to hit the books really hard, if you know what I mean." She laid her hand on his chest and pushed him back onto the couch. "How about I make your favorite meal one last time? You know, for old times' sake."

Lincoln's brow furrowed. "Swedish meatballs?" he asked.

That didn't make any sense. Swedish meatballs were Lincoln's absolute favorite dish and the one time Carol tried to make it, she burned the meatballs and the sauce came out tasting like sludge. She wasn't a very good cook, is what he was saying, and she didn't do it very often, so what was all this talk about making his favorite meal one more time?

Sensing his confusion, Carol smiled. Spinning around to face away from him, she snaked her hands up under her skirt, jammed her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, and pulled them down to her knees, then over her ankles. Lincoln got her meaning and grinned broadly. Oh, that favorite meal.

Carol lifted her skirt up over her butt and lowered herself onto his face, the warm, fragrant smell of her body filling his nose like the sweetest perfume. Her moist, silky lips brushed across his mouth and nose, and he squirmed his tongue in between to taste her center. She threw her head back and let out a soft moan, her face instantly turning red. She ran her hands over her chest and gave her breasts a light squeeze through her blouse. She loved having her nipples played with; it sent pangs of sensation through her body that made her melt.

While Lincoln ate her out, she unzipped his jeans and took his dick out. She curled her fingers around it and began to stroke up and down. The flesh was warm, smooth, and slick with precum. The musky scent drove her wild, and before she knew what she was doing, she was bending over and showing her tongue around the tip. A shudder went through Lincoln's body and he wormed his tongue deeper into her. She tossed her hair out of her face, gripped his cock, and went down slowly, the taste salty on her tongue. She moved her hand up and down the shaft as she sucked, giving a squeeze every time she reached the base.

They did this for a long time, their bodies moving in perfect rhythm and their passions gradually building up until they were both fevered and shaky. When their bodies could stand no ,more, they came, Lincoln first. His load shot against the back of Carol's throat and she she drank every last drop like it was liquid gold. The feeling of him coming undone beneath her pushed her over the edge and her orgasm burst deonated deep inside of her like a bomb blast. She spat Lincoln out of her mouth and rested her head on his thigh, placing lazy kisses on his dick and nut sack. She shifted a little so that he could breathe and panted for air. "You're getting really good at that," she remarked windedly.

"What can I say?" Lincoln asked. "I'm passionate about what I do."

That made her laugh. He certainly was. Giving good head is about 5 percent technique and 95 percent genuinely enjoying it. Carol didn't know about anyone else, but she could only get good at something if she liked doing it. No matter what you do, be it art, mechanical engineering, or sucking dick, you need a foundation of dedication on which to build. If you don't have that, chances are, you won't be very good at it. Though there are exceptions.

Pushing herself to a sitting position, Carol swung one leg over Lincoln and got up. He sat, wiped her juices from his mouth, and tucked his dick back into his pants. She didn't know if this would be the last time she ever saw it, but she felt a twinge of loss nevertheless. "I gotta get ready for my study date with Stella," she said.

'Yeah, I better get home," Lincoln said, "I promised Lucy I'd help her with her homework."

She walked him to the door and they hugged. "I'll see you soon," she promised.

"Not if I see you first," Lincoln said with a playful grin.

She kissed him and he kissed her back.

They held each other for what seemed like a long time before Lincoln pulled away and rubbed the back of his neck. After the heat of his body, Carol was cold, and she instantly crossed her arms over her chest. "I gotta go," he said. "I'll text you."

"Okay," she said.

He lingered for a moment, then turned and hurried down the steps. She watched him until he disappeared into the gathering gloom, then took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. The wrought iron lamps lining the street winked on one by one, their soft electric glow casting pools of clean white brilliance on the sidewalk. Carol felt like letting Lincoln go was a mistake, but she honestly believed that it would be best for both of them.

Sighing deeply, she went back inside and closed the door, shutting out both the night and her own doubts.


A few weeks later, just after 8pm on a cold and foggy Tuesday night, Lincoln went into his room, locked the door behind him, and sat down at the cluttered desk in his cramped little bedroom that used to be a closet. He opened his laptop, powered it up, and logged into his YouFace account. It was the big day at last; Carol was leaving for her future and Lincoln was here, wondering where to go and what to do with his own forever. For a while he felt a clawing sense of urgency, but finally began to relax after talking to Lucy, who was wise beyond her years. She picked up on his feelings and dragged the whole story out of him. He told everything about Carol, the harem, and the new worries he had about his future. "Take it easy," she said simply. "You're only have a long way to go before you have to worry about your future."

She was right. He knew that. Still. Carol was beginning her life and here he was, still stuck in elementary school. No wonder she wanted to break up. By the time he got done with college and could begin to build his own life, she'd be in her late twenties or early thirties and already well into her own life and career. It made him feel…well…pathetic. Inadequate, even.

But yeah, Lucy was right, that's just how it was and he shouldn't worry too much about it.

Presently, Carol appeared on the screen. She was sitting in the terminal of the airport in Great Lakes City, waiting for her flight. "Hey," she said brightly.

"Hey," he replied. "Excited?"

She nodded. "Very."

"That's good," he said, "it's probably going to be a lot of fun. Keggers, toga parties, streaking."

Carol laughed at his joke. "I don't think it's going to be like Animal House, Lincoln."

They had seen that movie one of the last times they were together. They only watched part of it because the rest of the time, they were focused on each other.

"You never know," Lincoln said.

"If it is, I'll be sure to invite you."

Now it was his turn to laugh. "I doubt anyone wants a kid hanging around."

You most of all, he thought but didn't say out loud.

And if she didn't, who could blame her? There weren't really all that many years separating them, but they were at the stage of life where a few years made all the difference. The disconnect between forty and forty-eight was nothing, a scant few months in the grand scheme of things. But the disconnect between eleven and eighteen was total. Like he'd said, he would just be starting out when she was already established, or at least much farther along in establishing herself. Maybe things would be different when they were older. Maybe she would still be single in her thirties and they could pick up where they left off.

Or maybe not.

Maybe she'd find someone else, get married, have kids, and forget all about him.

Now he felt like shit.

They talked for a little while longer, then a voice came over the PA system on Carol's end and she looked off camera. "That's my flight, I gotta go." She looked back at the camera and a shadow of doubt flickered across her face. It looked like she was having second thoughts. It looked like maybe leaving him wasn't as easy a decision as she had made it out to be. "I'm going to miss you, Linc," she said seriously.

"I'll miss you too," Lincoln said, and he meant it.

"I gotta go," she said. "Take care of yourself."

"You too."

The screen went dark, and Lincoln felt gutted.

He closed the computer and went to bed, depressed.

The next day, around noon, Stella came over. Mom sent her upstairs and she found Lincoln lying in bed, feeling sorry for himself. He was bleary eyed and disheveled and if he were a little older, he would have a five o clock shadow on his face. She sat on the edge of the bed wearing a look of concern and laid her hand on his hip. "You okay?" she asked.

"Meh," Lincoln said.

"I know," she said, "I'm sorry. But I have something that might cheer you up. If you want it, that is?"

Lincoln sat up. "What?"

She reached into her pocket and brought out a key. "This goes to the back door of The Rumpus Room. Carol made it for me. We can sneak in. That way I can put everything I've learned to good use and give you a lapdance a lifetime in the same room where it all began with Carol."

Lincoln perked up. "I like the sound of that," he said.

Stella giggled. "I figured you would."

"We'll do it tonight," she said. "I'll be waiting there at midnight. Sneak out and meet me."

With that, she got up and left.

Now instead of being bummed out, Lincoln was giddy with excitement. After dinner, he took a long, hot shower, making sure to wash everywhere so that he smelled fresh and clean, then he brushed his teeth and combed his hair. He tried to get his hated cowlick to stay down but it wouldn't, so he left it, like he always did.

He passed the next few hours in a state of suspense, and when eleven hit, he fashioned a rope made out of bed sheets, tied it to the footboard of his bed, and climbed out the window. It was chilly so he wore a jacket and a cap.

He fetched his bike from the garage and rode to The Rumpus Room. He parked next to the dumpster where Clyde and Rusty had been tossed on their first visit so long ago and went around back, where it was dark. He couldn't make anything out and almost screamed when a hand fell on his shoulder from behind. "Relax," Stella said, "it's just me."

Lincoln let out a sigh of relief. "Ready?" she asked.

"Of course."

Stella unlocked the door and they went in. They were in a long, dark hallway. The walls thrummed with the distant vibration of muffled music and the smell of alcohol wafted over them. They made their way to the room, sneaking and keeping to the shadows in the main part of the building. The lights were low and no one saw them.

In the room, Stella sat Lincoln down and whipped off her long coat. Beneath, she wore lacy black lingerie. Lincoln's dick sprang to attention and he suddenly felt warm all over.

Like Carol before her, Stella began to dance, her body twisting and writhing to the beat of the music. She ran her fingers through her hair and gyrated her hips in a slow, hypnotic circle. She turned slowly on her heels and let Lincoln get a good look at her back and back. She looked over her shoulder, reached behind her back, and unclasped her bra. She tossed it away and a lump formed in Lincoln's throat. She turned again and Lincoln stared at her breasts. She came forward, climbed into his lap, and straddled him. Her breasts were right in his face and he went to suck one of them but she pushed him back. She put her hands behind her head, weaved her fingers through her hair, and started to thrust her hips. She moved like water and the feeling of her body sliding back and forth over his erection made his leg thump like a dog when you scratch behind its ears. She ran his hands up and down her flanks and she allowed him to play with her breasts.

At long last, she laid him out on the floor and danced over him. She pulled his dick out and mounted him, rubbing herself along its length. The fabric of her panties were silky and warm, and the panting sound of her ragged breathing drove him mad.

Just before he could spray his load across the front of her underwear, she got up, spun, and squatted over his face. She knew well from Carol that he liked having his face sat on, and she did it well. She rubbed back and forth and kneaded him through his pants.

When he could take no more, he unloaded in his jeans, and Stella smiled in satisfaction. She got off and stretched out next to him. He took her in his arms and they held each other. "I'll never leave you, Lincoln,." she swore.

"I'll never leave you either," Lincoln said. "But we better leave here before we get caught."

Stella smiled. "Good idea."

25 years later

It was a rainy Friday night in late November. The Rumpus Room, three stories tall now after much needed renovations, was jumping with activity. High stake poker games took place on the top floor, slot machines and craps tables occupied the second, along with a full bar, and the first floor was given over to a combination strip bar slash restaurant with award winning crab cakes and pub burgers. The strip club half was packed to the gills with randy customers all cheering and cat calling a tall half-Filipino woman on the main stage. She was light skinned and beautiful with almond shaped eyes and black hair. Her form was lithe, her body incredible, and her moves…my God, her moves. You've never seen anybody like her and you never would, even if you lived to be a thousand.

She was so good that she had built The Rumpus Room from its humble beginnings. Just in the past year it had gone from not to hotter than it had ever been. Hotter than any other club anywhere in fact.

Eighteen, almost nineteen, Selena Loud, daughter of Stella and Lincoln, was the best in the business.

When her routine came to a raucous close, she went to one of the back rooms, giddy and thrumming with electric energy like she always did after a dance. There, she found a mixed thirteen year old boy with frizzy hair and braces. He looked nervous and didn't meet her eyes when she came in. "Thanks for waiting," she said to Jared McBride, son of Lori and Clyde.

"I just hope we don't get caught," he worried.

"We won't," she said, "I got you in here, didn't I?"

That she did.

"Plus, our parents know where we are, so if there's trouble, they'll bail us out."

He flashed a nervous smile that made her heart melt. She really liked Jared and was determined to give him the best birthday present ever.

And that's what she did.

Stripping was in her blood and it came second nature. She straddled him and grinded herself on his erection, making his eyes roll back into his head. His mouth fell open and he started to drool. She slipped her hands under his shirt and playfully kissed and nibbled his neck and ears. "You can touch my boobs," she whispered into his ear. Her breath was hot and moist against his skin, and he shivered, making her laugh.

He made no move to touch her so she guided his hands to her breasts and let him feel and squeeze her. She even pulled her top over her breasts and let him touch her bare. His touch was clumsy and awkward but it felt really nice against her fevered skin and stiff nipples. She tilted her head to the side, brushed her lips over his, and darted her tongue coyly into his mouth. She swirled it around his and then broke the kiss, giving him just a little taste. His eyes were wide and his mouth opened in a perfect O of surprise.

That made her giggle. He was so cute sometimes.

Okay, well, all the time. People thought she was kind of weird for having such a major crush on dorky little Jared McBride but he was totally adorable and made her feel giddy inside.

She finished by - of course - laying him out on the floor and squatting on his face. She could feel the rfidges of his chin and nose through her thong and they brushed across her clit on every pass, making her shake and cry out. She was getting horny and half way planned to fuck him when she was done.

Jared gave a body wide jerk and his feet thrashed on the floor, making her smile. That meant he was done. She lifted her butt from his face. "How did you like it?" she asked.

He didn't reply.

She looked over her shoulder and frowned.

He had passed out from pleasure.

Sighing, Selena dragged him out of the club and stuffed him into her car.

How, she wondered, would they ever get to third base if he kept doing this?

Eh, you know what they say.

Where there's a will, there's a way.