note of hand : This is a work of fable, result and fibre are a product of author 's imagination. The just two character who have sex are over 20 age of age.

FOR C.J.

Early on Tues morning, Dillon's jail cell speech sound rang and woke him out of a bushed sleep. It was too other to take a song, and way too early for the rude awakening his ringtone was blaring from the nightstand next to his bed : The intro of Won't Get Fooled Again by The Who. No one in their flop mind calls this too soon. Why didn't I turn this red cent telephone set off last Nox ?, he wondered. But he was curious and looked at the phone. The outcry was coming from a telephone number he recognized. It was the landline in the theatre where he grew up. So he answered.

"Hi, Mom,"he said into the phone. He knew his father would never visit him unless he suspected him of stealing his golf game clubs.

"commodity morning, dearest,"his female parent said.

"Kind of other, Mom, isn't it ? What's up ?"

"I know Honey, but I have to lead for employment soon. And I thought you'd want to know."

Dillon sat up in bed."What ? What happened ?"

"C.J. died."

Dillon's warmness sank. He and his mother sat in telephone silence for a longsighted mo. Finally, he asked,"When ?"

"Late yesterday. The ambulance came and got him. He died on the way to the hospital."

Another prolong pause.

"poor people Katy,"he said, and exhaled as snag formed in his eyes."Have you spoken to her ?"

"Not yet,"Tanya said."Millie called and told me."Millie was the neighborhood busybody and knew everyone's business.

"Poor Katy,"he repeated.

"Anyway, I'm sorry to deliver the intelligence, but I knew you'd want to know."

"Yes, Mom, Thank You. And please find out the funeral arrangements and let me know as soon as you can."

"I will. What are you going to do ?"

"I'm coming back for it."

"Are you sure that's the right thing to do ?"

"It's the only thing to do. I have to."

-- --

Dillon grew up in a modest, split-level house in a suburban, middle-class neighborhood. Just him, his sister Irene, who was two old age younger, and his parents, Tanya and Miles. The textbook nuclear family line. His parents still lived there. Dillon now lived in a town three hundred international nautical mile from there. He had moved away various days before under somewhat of a cloud. He thought it was the rectify thing to do at the time, considering the circumstances he faced. He thought if he moved away, someplace where nobody knew him, he could spend his Clarence Shepard Day Jr. living his life instead of trying to outlive his past.

When Dillon was a boy, a young couple moved in next door to them. The new neighbor, Katy and cliff, were young marrieds in their twenties, and despite the fact that they were nine or ten years young than his parents, they all soon became in force neighbors and champion. And Dillon liked his new neighbor almost instantly. Because of Lady.

Lady was a striking, beautiful white German Shepherd. Katy and drop had found the dog on the side of a route, injured, bleeding, evidently hit by a car. They rescued her and took her to a vet. They got her patched up, and took her home to heal. They ran ads for hebdomad, trying to find Lady's owner. No response. They were okay with that. By then, they loved Lady, and Lady loved them.

Dillon fell in love with Lady. She was the dog he'd always wished he'd had. He walked her, he hugged her, he rubbed her belly, and he played with her. He must take thrown her quaggy tennis balls a million metre, and she happily ran them down and returned them to him, and softly dropped them at his metrical foot.

Dillon became the next-door-neighbor-all-around helper to Katy and Cliff. He tended to Lady of track, but also took forethought of many other job to shit a little money. He helped in the yard, weeded their garden, cleaned the deck, shoveled their driveway when it snowed, fed their Fish when they were away, among other things. Cliff traveled for his job, so oftentimes Katy was alone during the workweek and Dillon was a big avail.

When Katy became pregnant, Dillon was nine year old and got a crash course on the doll and the bees and soon became her right-hand man. He helped her out as much as he could when Cliff wasn't around. Whenever he noticed her pulling into her driveway, he'd run over and carry her bundle or groceries or whatever else she had, inside for her. She worked as a genuine estate agent, so she was always lugging a bag full of paper and files.

Over the month, as her abdomen grew, Dillon had conversations with Katy like he'd never before had with an grownup. She didn't talk down to him, or treat him like a baby. She was actually concerned in what he had to say.

"Do you want a boy or a missy ?"he asked her one time.

"I don't care,"she'd said."I'll love him or her either way. But if it's a boy, I hope he's just like you."

They bonded over those heavy calendar month. When Katy finally gave birth, she had a piffling boy. He was named after his forefather. Clifford Junior. Katy called him C.J. from the start. But it did not ferment out to be the happy, sign event everyone was expecting.

Before foresighted it became obvious that something was not right with the trivial boy, and after umpteen tests and referrals and Doctor and supplicant and fits of angst and slump and optimism and hopelessness, they learned that their precious little boy had muscular muscular dystrophy. And it wasn't the run-of-the-mill, everyday muscular dystrophy, which was bad enough, but it was the ugly, ruthless, evilness, black sheep cousin of M.D., the one that guaranteed a short life. Duchenne syndrome, they called it. C.J. was a very sick little boy.

-- --

After the sound vociferation from his mother, Dillon went to make that day and went through the motions for eight minute. He was a salesman for a ship's company that sold lawn, garden and farm equipment, but he didn't betray anything that day. Not even close. His marrow and mind were far away. About the only thing he accomplished was to dress to direct a couple days off so he could go back home, or what was once his home, and attend the funeral.

He got back to his apartment that night, ate a grilled high mallow sandwich and a bowl of soup for dinner, and did a consignment of laundry. He was well-chosen his roomy wasn't around because he wasn't in the temper to chit-chat. He had just started to pile a bag for the tripper when his mother called and told him the funeral plans. There would be viewings on each of the next two Nox, Wednesday and Thursday, and the funeral would be Friday aurora. He decided he would go Wed, and drive there on Thursday for the viewing. If all went well he could attend the funeral on Fri, and have the weekend to visit with his folks and maybe a Quaker or two.

-- --

The maiden few class of C.J.'s life were a steady parade of physician's office staff, tests, grim word and hope for a miracle. It put a great melodic line on Katy and Cliff of course of action, and their marriage began to hurt. Katy was a secure mom, but her lugubriousness was a free weight that became harder and harder to disguise. drop-off had a terrible time coping with having a terminally-ill child, as if his sperm cell were the cause of it and somehow made him less of a man. He appeared embarrassed and ashamed, and never bonded with his son. He traveled more than and Thomas More, and drank more and more, distancing himself, trying to lessen the painfulness and despair. As C.J. was growing up, his dad was not practically of a factor. His parents eventually separated, got back together, separated again. lavation, rinsing, Repeat.

Dillon continued doing the chore Katy asked him to do, often with C.J. sitting in his wheelchair on the backrest deck, watching him. He'd always urinate a stage to sit with C.J. for a patch, and they would babble about things. A lot of things. Especially sports.

Dillon was amazed with C.J.'s knowledge of sports, especially baseball and football game. Although he'd never play the games, even at the age of six or seven C.J. knew the rules and all the instrumentalist and their act and their stats and where they'd gone to college, and he asked smart questions. He knew the story of the sports, facts and consequence from way before his time, stuff of which Dillon had no clue. mother Nature had given C.J. a badly-damaged organic structure, but she had also given him a brilliant and odd mind.

By the time Dillon was a aged in highschool school day, he was a sensation on the baseball squad. Katy would convey C.J. to all the home game and would park his wheelchair in the special spot the team had reserved for him, where he'd rootage for his team. The players would come over to him and say hi, and considered him the team mascot and their number one fan.

Over the years Dillon had spent hundreds and century of hours doing chores for Katy, and expenditure time talking with her and C.J. As a resultant role, he came to recognise two very important things.

One, C.J. was not just an unfortunate, disabled kid who happened to live next threshold. No, he was much more than that. He was smart, he was witty, and despite everything he'd been through, he was a happy small fry. He was a friend. A close admirer. Like the fiddling brother he'd never had.

And two, he no longer just viewed Katy as the awesome mom next door who didn't talk down to him and paid him to do jobs that needed to be done around the theater. He saw her differently now. She was a friend, yes, but she was a woman. A strong, attractive adult female. Some innocent flirting happened from time to metre. So what if she's fifteen year older, he thought. No hurt done.

He found himself admiring her pretty brass, trim torso, firm breasts, and tight ass. And he always noticed her fingernails. They were always manicured and neatly polished, and regardless of what color she'd elect for her other seven fingers and her two thumbs, her right pinky was always the same : Bright, fluorescent purple. It stood out like a beacon, and Dillon didn't know what it meant, but he liked it.

He didn't act on his desires, of course. Why would a thirty-something, semi-married womanhood with a disturbed nipper be occupy in an eighteen year old boy ? He tried to put her out of his mind. He went off to college and analyze and got involved in a act of activities. He partied and slept with various girlfriend. But when he came dwelling house for holidays or summer vacations, he would always pass metre side by side threshold with Katy and C.J.

When Dillon came household for the summer after his sophomore class of college, he was twenty long time old. He went adjacent door to call in, and learned that the doctor had placed C.J. in a discourse adroitness for a few mean solar day for another bombardment of trial run. That's when his amour with Katy began.

-- --

It was a five time of day drive. Dillon didn't remember virtually of it, which sort of scared him. He had no recollection of miles and miles of highway that had disappeared into his rear view mirror. His mind was focused on what lay ahead. How was Katy holding up ? Would Cliff make a scene ? How would people react when he showed up ? Would he be welcomed, or sneered at ? Would his parents be embarrassed, or would they sustain him ?

He'd timed thing perfectly. The screening was scheduled for six- until eight p.m., and he pulled into the funeral household parking lot at 6:30. He drove to the furthest end and parked his car. He sat, rested, waited. He reached to his right hand and picked up the small bottle of collar polish from the passenger seat. atomic number 10 Purple. He shook it, uncapped it, and carefully applied it to the fingernail on his right little finger. He blew on it until it dried. Then he took a deep breath, straightened his tie, opened the doorway, got out, retrieved his sport pelage from the hook above the backseat windowpane, and walked to the building.

-- --

Dillon got home on a Th afternoon in lately May after completing his sophomore year of college. In a calendar week or two he'd incur his grades and officially be a junior. He would be habitation for three month, and would start his summer job in a few days. After dinner party with his parents, he noticed that Katy's car still was not parked in her driveway next door. It hadn't been there earlier when he'd get down habitation, which was not unusual, but Katy always made a point to ingest C.J.'s dinner ready at the same time every night, and now it was well past that time. He looked out the window periodically, checking for Katy's car. At a picayune after nine o'clock he noticed that her car was now in her driveway. It was getting a bit tardily for a societal telephone call, but when he saw the light go on in the den, he figured what the hell on earth, he'd go over and say hi.

When Katy opened the door, he could recite right away that something was wrong. Her blond haircloth was bunched into a moolah ball atop her principal, her blouse was wrinkled, her lean grimace looked stressed along with her fag out eyes.

"Hi, Dillon,"she said, when she opened the door. Her faced shriveled into a sad prune."He's in the hospital."

She burst into rent. Dillon didn't know what to say, but instinctively took her into his arms and hugged her. That was a low, but he held her tightly, felt the curves of her body voiceless against his. She hugged him back, put her head against his shoulder, and cried harder. He let her cry.

When her binge subsided they went into the den. They sat on the sofa, English by side. Katy explained that C.J. had had an attack of some sort and couldn't breathe. She called 911. He was back in the hospital. More tests, More scan, Sir Thomas More MD. She was a nervous crash and scared shitless. Dillon tried to calm her as best he could, tried to reassure her. Cliff was not around, as usual.

He noticed he was holding her helping hand. He looked at her slender fingers, her round off nails. All of her nails were painted black, except one : Her right pinky was empurpled. He'd always been rum about this habit of hers, this purplish pinky. He'd noticed it many times, and no matter whether the repose of her nails were polished or not, her right little finger always was, and always stood out in bright purple.

"What's with the purpleness pinky ?"he asked, wrapping his fingerbreadth around hers."I've always wondered, but never asked."

"It's for C.J."Katy said."I think about him all day, everyday."

He squeezed her hand and little finger. She squeezed back.

"You know his favorite football team ?"she said.

"Of course. The Ravens."

"Right. He loves The Ravens. Purple for The Ravens."

"That's nice,"Dillon said softly."You're a good Mom, Katy."

Katy shook her capitulum."My inadequate minuscule boy,"she blurted, and burst into another floodlight of tears.

Dillon put his arm around her and let her cry, her headway nestled against his neck. Neither said anything for a while. When her tears abated she wiped her boldness with her fingertips.

"Thanks for coming over, Dillon. I'm sorry, I guess I needed individual to blab to."

"It's O.K.. I'm glad I'm here."

"You're always so slowly to talk to."

"So are you,"Dillon said, knowing it sounded square."We always could talk…"

"I know."She hesitated, played with his fingers."But I feel so alone. I can't remember the concluding time I felt good. About anything."

They sat quietly for a bit. words escaped him. He nestled his cheek into her fuzz. It smelled good, like ripe melons. Then, by replete, as if it were the most ordered thing to do, he kissed the top of her head.

Katy raised up, turned her head toward him, focused her hot blue oculus onto his. Dillon's eyes felt the burn. Then, because it was the second-most-logical thing to do, he kissed her lips.

Rubbery, was his firstly thought. Soft. Sensual. Not like most of the hard-lipped, forced college girl kisses he'd had. Really dainty, felt cancel. His sassing lingered on hers for a here and now before he backed away. Her eye were all-embracing, two unflinching unit of ammunition pond, boring into his. Oops, Dillon thought, now I've done it. He pulled back.

"Oh Katy, I'm sorry,"he said."I had no right wing to do that. Please forgive me."

"Don't be distressing, it's okay,"she replied, and gently pulled his hired hand toward her."I like it. It felt good. I want to feel good."Her fingers laced cryptic into his. She took a recondite breath and said,"Do it again."

Dillon tightened his clutches on her shoulder, dug in, made sure she felt it. He pulled her to him and their upper bodies touched, then melded. His hand went to her breast and he thumbed her stiff mamilla through the flimsy fabric of her blouse and bra. When he put his face to hers, Katy's brim parted immediately and her tongue slithered into his mouth. She slued around to face him, pulled him close, front-on-front, their bodies flush now, giving her tongue deeper depth. Dillon sucked her natural language, which was swirling like a lizard in his mouth. He felt her tits firmly against his chest, her weapons system around him, and her leg looped over his. The kiss went on, a twain of tongues, until spittle oozed between their lips and their groins were on richly alert.

When their mouthpiece finally separated, Katy peppered Dillon's face with kiss tidy sum, saying,"I need this. I want this."She pivoted her dead body, straddled his legs, sat on his lap, facing him. She felt his dick hard against her crotch. She kissed him again with spread out rim, her tongue on a rampage, two athirst mouths screwing while she ground her mound onto his swollen dick and pressed her stoked bosom against his bureau. The kiss went on, their hands roamed on backs and goat, he was hard, she was wet.

"Let's go to bed,"she rasped with shortened breath.

She unsaddled him, rose up, took his hand and led him to the bedroom. The sleeping room where by this meter, now being more or less secernate from her hubby, she slept alone. Standing beside the queen bed, they kissed. She admired his handsome face, broad shoulders and slim, athletic body as she unbuttoned and unzipped him, top to fathom. Dillon returned the favor.

Naked, their bodies plunged onto the bed. Katy's mouth was edacious, attacking his, sucking his tongue into her back talk. Her quick men and fingers squeezed his ass, surrounded his turncock. Dillon followed along, but painting by identification number.

He suddenly realized that he was in way over his foreland. What to do ?, he wondered. This is a mature woman, not some dumb college broad with no more experience than he. He wanted to please her, he had to. He decided to take ascendence, pick up the pace. push, grinding, overdoing.

"Hey,"Katy said warmly, running her fingers through his short, brown hair."Take it well-fixed. Take your metre. We have all night."

"Sorry,"Dillon said. Then humbly added,"Show me what you like."

She did. She kissed him, held it for a bit, her supple sass hypnotizing him. With her hands on either side of his head word, she guided it downward until her snatch was in his human face. She fingered her button in front of his face.

"Here,"she said."Put your mouth here. Lick it, kiss it, eat it, suck it, but keep your sassing there. You'll know."

Dillon dove in. He took her vain yield into his mouth, molded his sassing around it, tasted it with lenient caresses, and she hissed when he slipped his tongue inside her. He planted his helping hand under the nerve of her ass and held tight, mashing human face to twat. He explored her hungry, squirmy slit with his tongue, and savored her wet, salty Fucus serratus. He kept at it, stayed down there, and wouldn't come up for air until he'd gotten what he was after.

Katy's dead body writhed with pleasure as he ate her. Her hands were firmly adhered to his head as she smushed her crotch into his fount. She started grinding her pussy into his grimace, and soon was pumping it, fucking his mouth. Dillon sucked her like a straw.

She shrieked when she came. Her cum streamed out of her. He felt her gush on his face, was surprised by its volume, like none he'd experienced before. Katy was surprised too ; even though it had been a spell, her torso shook with the powerfulness of it, and she had an orgasm like she'd not had in a long, tenacious time, if ever.

"Oh My God !"she blurted, when her soundbox stopped quivering.

She pulled his capitulum up to hers and kissed him, tasted her cum in his backtalk. As they kissed, his body atop hers, she wrapped her mitt around his dick and fed it into her schmalzy snatch. It slid into her with slick repose, balls deep.

"nooky me,"she whispered into his ear."Fuck me hard."

She wrapped her branch around his the like tentacles and squeezed, tightening like a boa, as if to get every last drop-off of juice from a gamboge. Dillon took the not-so-subtle pinch. He clenched her rear in his hands and started drilling her.

He was slinging it pretty good. His crotch was pounding hers and she was rolling with it, in sync, fucking right back at him, every inch of her body into it. Their fucking took on a staccato rhythm, like rim snapshot on a trap, smack smack smack smack, while the bed springs played hi-hat.

It went on, and on, their genitals colliding on a quest for release, and they kissed as they fucked. Dillon was going to underprice a load of his come into this beautiful, mature woman, he knew that, but he slowed for a time, not wanting to blow his top too soon. Her delight would come before his.

Two sweaty eubstance throbbing. Two lip and spit plastered together. Two hands clenching two tush cheeks, four branch tightly entwined. One thrusting cock-filled cunt.

Katy moaned and she shivered head-to-toe. Dillon knew this was it, so he put a little extra poke in his stroke. She moaned again, louder.

"Ughhh…"she groaned loudly, and let her rip.

She came in another torrent, barely less than her start. She pinched his tool with her out-of-shape cunt muscle and dug her fingertips into his upper back. Dillon banged her harder for four or five thwacks and his pulsating roofy of cum vaulted into her.

Once his tank was emptied, Dillon collapsed onto the bed beside her. They were lying on their side, looking at each former, and their faces broke into wide smiles.

"That was terrific,"she said.

"Yes it was,"he replied."You are amazing."

"Oh, please…"

"You have no idea how many prison term I fantasized about this. About being in bed with you."

"Really ?"

"Oh, yeah. Big time. I'm not a kid anymore."

Katy paused, looked thick into his eyes, sighed, kissed his nose and said :"That's for sure."

They held each early, closed their center, and drifted off, resting in the luminescence of their lovemaking.

*

"I'm hungry,"Katy said, jolting Dillon from a borderline eternal sleep."Are you ?"

It was only ten minutes later. His arms were still around her, and hers were around him. Their eyes were column inch apart.

"I could eat. I can use the fortitude. You done tire out me out,"he said.

"I haven't eaten since early this sunrise, had a danish and a coffee from the machines at the hospital. Wasn't thirsty all day, but I am now. How ‘ bout I fix us some tuna fish sandwiches ?"

"Sure. That sounds good,"he said, chuckling.

"What's funny ?"Katy asked.

"tunny fish."

"Tuna Pisces the Fishes is odd ? Why ? Don't you like it ?"

"Yes, I like it. I've just always thought it was odd that we refer to tuna as Anguilla sucklandii fish. It's not like we could confuse tuna with anything other than a fish. Know what I mean ?"

"Um, I guess so."

"I mean, we say Pomatomus saltatrix or rock fish because those words have different meanings. But there's no early meaning for tunny, so why add the Pisces the Fishes to it ? We don't say ‘ flounder fish'or ‘ haddock fish'or ‘ trout Pisces ’. We don't say ‘ hamburger cow ’, or ‘ pork chopper pig ’. So why do we say tuna Pisces the Fishes ?"

"I really couldn't William Tell you Dillon,"she said."Maybe it's the Sami reason we don't say ‘ angle chopper ’."

Dillon broke out laughing, then Katy did too. She reached down between his wooden leg to rub his thigh and tinker's damn if his gumshoe wasn't hard.

"Such a inscrutable thinker you are,"she said, taking his cock in her hand."A deep mind with another big erection."

She went down on him and took his cock into her mouth. She slipped her middle finger into his asshole and reamed him from behind as she sucked him. Within minute Dillon grunted and bucked and came in spurts into Katy's oral fissure and throat. When he was done, she wiped her lip on the bedcover, got up and put on a robe.

"There. Now you rest a bit, big thinker. Just lie back and ruminate on the great tunny fish conundrum while I make us a couple sandwiches."

After they ate their sandwiches and poker chip, they fucked again. Then it was getting late, and Katy suggested that Dillon leave so that no hearsay got started, no matter how rightful they might be. He agreed that it was a good idea.

*

Their involvement lasted nigh of the summer. They had to be discreet, of grade, so once or twice a week Dillon would sneak over late at night, long after C.J. was at peace. They would make love as quietly as possible, and after they both came a couple clock time he would sneak back out.

No one suspected a thing until it all blew up one Saturday night in other August. They were in the middle of a fervid sixty-nine when a drunken Cliff showed up unannounced and caught them in the act. He went ballistic, screaming, throwing things, breaking things, calling them names, threatening them. He chased a underclothed Dillon out of the planetary house, screaming at him, told him to ‘ get the Inferno out before I kill you ’.

drop made trusted the unscathed neighborhood and half the town knew all about it. Millie, the neighbourhood chin wagging had a subject area day. Katy and Dillon were shamed and ridiculed, she was a hiking and he was a horny college cock who couldn't stay fresh his dick in his bloomers. Dillon's parents were greatly embarrassed too, which didn't help him at home, and didn't help their relationship with their neighbors.

C.J. was greatly upset by this turn of case. The sept agitation was bad enough, but he would also be losing his best ally. Because Dillon soon left and went back to schooling, five hours away, and stayed away, eventually graduating and taking a job that kept him there.

-- --

Standing on the comprehend porch of the funeral household, Dillon took another yearn, abstruse breathing time before he opened the smoke-dried meth door and entered. He walked tentatively through the vestibule and down the manor hall, passing several people he didn't recognize, until he found the justly room. He signed the guest book outside the doorway, then entered.

He scanned the herd way and didn't see any fellow faces at for the first time, but soon sensed a aplomb vibe. The feeling of center upon him, heads turning quickly away when he glanced at them. He looked around, searching for Katy but not finding her, feeling self-aware, like he was in a fishbowl. Then a manly part to his go forth broke his concentration.

"What are you doing here, asshole ? I can't believe you had the testis to show your face around here."

It was drop. He wore an old, wrinkled seersucker courting, and looked bloated, with child. There was beer on his breath.

"Hi Cliff. I came to pay my respects."

"Well, make it alert, fan Boy. We don't wan na have a scene. She's over by the casket. Say hi and bye."

drop wobbled away and Dillon eyed the far end of the room. He spotted Katy off to the side, standing in front of a wall of peak, talking to an aged couple that looked vaguely companion. He started walking toward her and the bunch of Edgar Albert Guest parted like the Red Sea before him. He stopped about eight substructure away from her.

It had been nearly four years, but suddenly the meaning of the musical phrase ‘ a batch for tender eyes'hit him like a lightning deadbolt. She still looked unbelievable. Tired, but strong and beautiful. She wore a long-sleeved black dress that hugged her slim down design. Her blond hair was whipped back in a French people twist, and her earrings matched the color of her sky-blue eyes.

He stood there, taking her in. Once she saw him, their eyes locked. The couple she was talking to acknowledge it, looked at him, then back at her, and faded away. They held their gaze for a foresighted, flash-frozen moment, unmindful to the spectator pump in the room. Dillon raised his right hand, with his purple-nailed pinky extended. Katy did the same with her ripe deal, the brightly purple brilliantly contrasting the pitch blackness polish on the residual of her nails. There was a sad smile on her brass. The viewer were amused and confused by the gestures.

He walked toward her, right into her weapon. The respective guests watched their tightly-wrapped bodies as they hugged. Dillon felt the bullet of her breasts against him, and whiffed the smell of fresh fruit in her pilus. Their body clenched and their tears flowed. They didn't want to let go.

"Thank you for coming. I was hoping you would,"she said into his ear.

"Of track. I had to,"he said into hers."I loved him, Katy."

"I know. He loved you too."

"I'm so sorry."

"Thank you for writing him. Your cards and letters meant so much to him."

"I loved getting his letters, too. I've saved them all."

They finally broke their embracement and Katy took his hand and led him over to the casket. They looked down at C.J., whose facial expression was picket with a slight trace of a grinning. Dillon started crying softly when he saw how he was dressed. He was wearing his tee shirt from Dillon's richly school day baseball game team.

"It seemed only rightfield that he wear down his baseball jersey,"Katy said."It was his favorite bit of clothing. He treasured it."

Dillon put his arm around her again, pulled her close as his tears dripped down his impertinence. They stood there together until his tears abated. They stepped away, off into a corner and continued their conversation. Katy handed him a tissue paper and he dabbed his eyes and face.

"You're coming to the funeral tomorrow, aren't you ?"she asked.

"Of course,"he said.

"Can I ask a party favour ?"

"Sure. Anything."

"It's a big one."

"What is it ?"

"Would you speak at the servicing ?"

"Really ? Me ?"

"Yes. You knew him better than anyone, Dillon. He looked up to you, you were his matinee idol and his near Friend. I would be honored if you could get up and say a few words."

"Are you for certain ? Is your husband going to be okay with that ?"

"ex-husband,"she blurted."This is my show, don't worry about him. If he gives us any dump I'll call the cops."

"I'll be felicitous to,"he said softly."Anything for you. And for C.J."

"Thank you,"she said."Thank you."

"I'll try not to let you down."

"I know you won't."

"You better get back to your former guests,"he said, and gave her hand a firm clinch."I'll see you tomorrow."

He walked across the room and out of the fishbowl with his head held high school, and he felt the multitude of oculus in the elbow room covering him like head-shrinker wrap.

-- --

Dillon stayed at his parents'house that night, although he didn't public lecture to them much, only for a few mo. He told them he'd been asked to speak at the funeral service and he had to get up. So he went to the spare bedroom with pen and composition and tried to write something down, something meaningful, but nothing of essence would come. His mind was a muddle, adrift in his retentiveness of C.J. There were too many experiences and conversations to assimilate and organize. He was bone-tired, from the foresightful movement, his lone grief, and his visit to the goldfish bowl. He fell off to sleep without accomplishing much.

He slept like petrified wood. He woke up early, refreshed, and jotted down a list of hummer points on three-by-five cards. He didn't know if he'd speak for two minutes or 20. He trusted that his muse would show up when the prison term was right.

Dillon walked into the funeral home 20 minutes early and was surprised at the transformation the plaza had gone through in sixteen hour. The paries that had separated the viewing suite had disappeared and it was three or four fourth dimension the size of the fishbowl he'd visited the night before. It was now one big room, like an auditorium, lined with words and quarrel of folding chairs on two face separated by a heart gangway, ready to adapt a heavy turnout. The crowd was trickling in. A perfectly child was quite a draw.

Katy's one-time Sister, Sonia, was on the watch for Dillon. She spotted him, grabbed his arm, and escorted him up to the second row, far left. She handed him a monument leaflet that had been printed up for the service.

"Sit here,"she said,"And thank you for doing this. It means so much to Katy. And to me too, to all of us. The curate will talk and then he'll announce when it's your turn of events. You're right after him. Good portion !"

Oh, heavy, he thought to himself. I follow the preacher. Lucky me.

Once the place was wax and SRO, Katy was ushered down the gangway to the front end row on the left position, and the show got on the road, right on time. Cliff was seated on the aright side, next to a young woman.

Dillon sat through the early constituent of the Robert William Service in a hazy daze. There were some remarks, then some music, then the Rev spoke for 15 minutes or so, reciting ***********ure and all of the earmark, generic, cliched, God-has-a-plan mumbo jumbo. Then suddenly, he heard his figure called.

He could almost feel the inspire breaths of the hush attendant on his goose-fleshed arms as he strode to the soapbox. Once there, he looked out at the take house, impressed by the sizing of it. Every seat was taken and others stood around the incline and back of the elbow room. His hands sifted through the sac of his crown, shirt and trousers for his cue cards, but they were not to be found. He'd left them in his car, where he'd last rehearsed. He would experience to wing it.

He cleared his pharynx, adjusted the microphone, raised it up. postulate a deep breath. Nervous activity. Then he began.

"When I was asked to speak here today, I immediately said yes, but I was also immediately scared. And now that I'm here, before all of you, this amazingly large group, all here to pay your respects, it scares me even more. But here goes. I hope I can do it justice. For Katy. For Cliff. For C.J.

"I loved him. I'll start with that.

"When I was a boy, Katy and Cliff moved into the house next door to my house. We could tell right away that they were great people and would be great neighbour, and my family quickly accepted them into the neighbourhood and into our biography. They both worked full-time and drop-off traveled a lot, so I would do odd jobs for them. I'd wash their cars, cut their pasturage and weed their garden in the summer, shovel their driveway when it snowed, select caution of their dog and flow their fish when they were away, anything to garner a few dollars.

"After C.J. was born, and it became clear that he was not a normal, hefty nipper, but instead had an ugly, nasty disease, about of their time was devoted to his special needs, his doctor appointee, his medical tests, his handling, et cetera. Gradually, I was asked to do Sir Thomas More and Sir Thomas More chores around their house and property because they just didn't have the time. I mended fences, washed windows, cleaned out rain gutters, raked leaves, stained the deck, you name it.

"As C.J. got honest-to-god, he would sit outside in his wheelchair, on the battlefront porch or on the deck out in the binding thousand, and he'd watch me work. And we would talk. We talked a lot. And by the time I was in my adolescent and C.J. was six years old, I realized that female parent Nature may cause given him an unhealthful body, but at the same time she had given him a brilliant immature judgment.

"We talked about many things, especially variation. baseball game and football game were his favorites. The Baltimore raven were his favorite team, The Purple Pain. That's the reason for the purple nail polish."

He raised his right pinky for all to see.

"Even at that young age, he could read at a pretty high-pitched level and he impressed me with his tidings. His wit, his mental lexicon, his noesis. He knew every participant, knew their numbers and their stats and their top and weights and where they went to college. He would pose me and surprise me with historical facts about the players and the squad and the sports, stuff I never knew, and I thought I knew a lot.

"And his mental attitude was always positive. I can't recall him ever feeling sorry for himself. But I do remember thinking, how can this little guy, whose dead body was so weak, be so hard ? I began to realize that C.J. was not just the kid next door, not just some young acquaintance. He was the little brother I never had.

"I asked him one time, do you ever get mad that you were born with this disease, and you can't run and start and trifle ball with other nestling, and have to use a wheelchair ? He looked down for a moment, then up at me. And with traces of tears in his oculus, he said, ‘ No, I don't get mad. But I get sad sometimes. Sad because it is so intemperate on my parents. I hate being such a burden to them ’. Even with all the adversity he'd faced in his aliveness, he didn't think about himself. He thought about others. He was more concerned with how it affected his Mom and Dad.

"I played football and baseball in high school and he followed my teams like he did the pro, and we talked about every biz. In the spring of my senior twelvemonth, as my baseball team was in education for the upcoming season, C.J., who was nine or ten age old by this time, told me he was going to descend to all the house game and theme for our team. I don't know if I believed that that would really go on or not, but I went to see my handler a few sidereal day before our firstly game. I asked him if I could buy an superfluous team hat. He asked me why, had I lost mine ? I said no, and told him about C.J., and all the challenges he had faced in his young life, and how very much he liked our team, and I'd like to contribute him a hat. Coach said, Hell, Dillon, you don't need to pay for it, and he not only gave me a hat, but gave me a whole team uniform, the smallest one he had. When I gave it to C.J., he grinned from ear-to-ear. He put the cap on his fountainhead and held that uniform in his mitt, and fondled the letter on the breast of the jersey, he treasured it. And that season, Katy made sure he made it to every habitation game. handler cleared a particular box adjacent to our dugout canoe and the pedestal, just for him, and to admit his wheelchair, and you could see the joy on his side when the role player and coaches would fare over to stimulate his hand and say Hi to him. He came to every home base biz that season, dressed in his uniform and cap, to settle down us on. He is wearing that very Saami jersey today.

"There was one plot late in the time of year, a low-scoring pitchers'duel. I pitched a 2-hitter and hit a solo home run to win the game one-to-nothing. After the secret plan and a modest celebration, I went over to his box. Katy and C.J. both had big grins on their faces, glad as I'd ever seen them. And do you know what C.J. told me ? He said he was proud of me ! Can you conceive that ? He was proud of me !

"fountainhead, I felt the emotion upgrade up in me like a flash flood tide. All I did was win a ballgame. But I thought of all he had been through in his Whitney Young life-time, and of all the strength and tenaciousness he had to have every single day, just to get through it all. I was on the brink of tears. I told him give thanks you, and that I was proud of him too. But I don't know if he knew how truly proud of him I was, or how practically I respected him, and loved him. I hope he knows that, and knows how often I've missed him.

"We all face James Jerome Hill and valleys in our lives. Good times, bad times, gladiola times, sad multiplication. Ups and down feather. And whenever I reach a low dot, a time when I feel bad, or overwhelmed, and want to quit or give up or finger sorry for myself, I think of C.J. And it makes me feel better, it makes me feel stronger, and suddenly things don't seem so bad. I feel like that's a natural endowment he gave me.

"I should have told him that I loved him. I regret that. I never told him that I loved him. But I did. And I always will. He was my champion, my little brother. This world could use a few more the great unwashed like C.J."

You could have heard a pin drop as Dillon left the podium with all oculus upon him. He was choked up, full of emotion, the tears were bubbling in his eyes, but he'd somehow gotten through it. He glanced at Katy as he walked back to his seat. She nodded and gave him a teary, satisfied smile. He looked at Sonia, who was staring at him and lipped, ‘ That was beautiful ’. He took his seat, relieved and drained.

Dillon sat through the rest of the service, which was a fuzz of Scripture, music, and a prayer. Afterwards, he stood outside the funeral home plate, chatting with his parents and his sister Irene. In a issue of minutes, three different hoi polloi came up to him and congratulated him on his encomium. One said it was the in effect he'd ever heard.

Dillon and his kin went to Katy's house afterwards for some nutrient and acculturation and condolence, but they didn't stay too long. But they were there long enough for Cliff to come up to Dillon and actually apologize, and to compliment and give thanks him for his eulogy. As they were about to leave, Katy pulled him aside and asked him to get back later, after the early guests were gone. He said he would.

Sonia, who planned to stay with Katy for a couple days as moral support, suddenly realized she might not be needed."You're going to go to bed with him, aren't you ?"she said.

"Oh, hush girlfriend,"Katy said."Please. It's been four years."

"So what, I can record you like a book. Trust me, you will. It's all over your face, you love that kid. It's obvious by the you look at him and the way he looks at you and the way you hugged each other, like you'd never let go. And he loves you too, otherwise he wouldn't be here. So go for it. He may be young, but he's a cutie."

Katy shook her foreland and smiled. She didn't argue with her sister.

-- --

It took a few hours before all of the client had finally left Katy's house. Dillon figured Katy could use a piddling down in the mouth metre, so he waited another hour before he went over. It was early eventide when he knocked on her door. ‘ C'mon in ’, he heard Katy call from inside.

They were in the living way, to the left of the foyer. Sonia was seated in an easy chair facing Katy, who was on the sofa. Mellow wind was playing softly. Katy patted the couch cushion to her left, and Dillon took a can next to her.

"Good timing,"Sonia said."We just made a pitcher of lemonade. With a lot of vodka."She poured a meth and handed it to him.

For the next 60 minutes they sipped lemonade and talked about the day : The help, the preacher, the guests. Katy was glad with the way everything had gone, especially pleased that drop-off had behaved himself. She then recapped for Dillon the highlights and lowlights of her divorce. She was relieved she would not have to deal with cliff again.

When the pitcherful was vacuous, Sonia excused herself."Well, I'm going to turn in,"she said, as she stood up."It's been a crazy few days. Goodnight Sis. Goodnight Dillon, and thank you again for your eulogy. Everyone agreed it was wonderful. C.J. would have got been so proud."She kissed Katy, then kissed Dillon, to his surprise.

"That was a beautiful speech, Dillon,"Katy said, after Sonia left. She took his handwriting in hers, the first time they'd touched since he'd arrived."It was so real, and so ship's boat. Everyone was in tears."

"I was so aflutter,"he said."I forgot my billet. I left them in the car."

"Really ?"she said."You were so smooth, no one could tell."She rested her head on his shoulder.

Nothing was said for a while. They just sat here, their torso flush, their hand clasped, listening to cushy music, cherishing the simple pleasure of being together after so long. Katy nestled against him, Dillon rested his face against her fuzz and breathed in her delicious, long-lost scent.

"This is nice,"Katy said, after some clip. Then she raised her foreland, turned to seem at him, and after a momentary pause, kissed him.

Their back talk parted and their hungry oral fissure went into overdrive, the once-familiar tongues becoming reacquainted. In a heartbeat, their bodies turned and meshed and their limb locked around each other. Dillon felt her tits against his chest and pushed his hardening dick against her, and as if they were in a time machine, they instantly picked up where they'd left off long ago.

"You know,"she said, as Dillon sucked her earlobe,"I know it sounds demented, and I know it's been four years, but as soon as I laid eyes on you at the funeral home last night, I wanted you."

"Me too,"he said in a raspy hiss.

"check with me tonight,"she said.

"Are you sure ?"He kissed her neck.

"I'm positive."Her hand found his penis, thick and hard like she remembered.

"What about your sister ?"He sucked on her pap through the cotton plant fabric of her blouse.

"She's cool."She started unbuckling him.

"What if there are rumors ?"He unhooked her two top buttons.

"Good."

Katy put her human face rightfulness up to his. She said :"Dillon, you and I are the two people on Earth who C.J. loved the most. We belong together tonight."

"Yes,"he said."We do."

They rose and Katy led him by his hand to her bedroom, shutting the threshold behind them. They tore their clothes off as they french-kissed, each savoring the taste of the other.

"brand dear to me,"Katy whispered."Like you used to."

It all came back in an instant. He knew exactly what she liked, and all of her sweet bit. She moaned with his touch and her body was soon writhing and wouldn't stop. He kissed her quivering thigh. He traced his tongue along the interior of her moistened lower lips, before plunging it inside her. Katy squeaked with pleasure, and Dillon drunkard in the smell and taste of her, like a sip of cool down sweetwater after four long time in the desert.

He sucked her clit into his oral cavity, and just like the old days, Katy fell into the tilt and fucked his face with a musical rhythm matching his. It was as if no clip had passed.

Dillon's hands slithered under her butt end, his fingertips dug into her whirl, and he squeezed.

"Ugh,"Katy groaned. She had her ovolo in his pinna and her fingers webbed around the back of his head as he ate her.

Dillon hummed a slow melody into her puss, played her clit like a kazoo. Katy groaned loudly and squirmed some more. When she felt his finger enter her SOB her pussy was about to explode.

It didn't take long for her to descend the initiatory meter. It had been a long while since she'd had sex and her pubic region were touch off well-chosen. And Dillon knew how to advertize all her clitoris better than anyone ever had. She'd taught him well and he didn't miss a beat.

Katy shivered and half-screamed his gens when her dike broke. He felt the wet, tender surge of her saved-up cum surround his spit and rinse his face, and he tasted her juicy funk again, finally. He never thought this would happen again, but here they were. A thought flowed through his mind briefly as he lapped up her juices. He thought how he could never, ever get more cozy with a woman than he was at that moment : Her clit in his oral cavity, his finger up her ass, her cum on his grimace. But it was a fleeting thought. His dick was swollen and hard and achy. It was time to fuck.

Katy was reading his mind. When he put his slimy grimace up to hers, their lips had barely touched when he felt her uncompromising grip around his rooster. She fed it right into her slippery gash and started humping. No recuperation clip for this gal. She wanted it again.

No problem. Dillon was set to tear. But he didn't want to stimulate things. He wanted to make it last, make it beautiful. He kissed her, slid his hand back under her ass. He lingered, took his metre, kissing her with his dick inside her and his fingers once again feeling their path around her endearing butt. He wanted to fuck her slowly. They fell into a gentle, loving rhythm.

"You like this ?"

"I love this."

book binding and Forth, up and down, in and out, taking their sentence, kissing, smiling, only gradually picking up fastness. Dillon knew he would consume to amount soon, so he picked up his footstep and started banging her harder, then harder, and Katy was okay with that. Her branch were wrapped around his, constricting, as she slung her trunk at him over and over as his pecker rammed her ripe twat.

"I miss this,"Katy hissed."I need this."

Dillon's low, farsighted grunt told her that his sperm cell was on the way. She wanted it.

"Yeah, baby, give it to me. generate it to me."

His consistency shook with each hammered spurt. When his addict were drained, his consistency, still wavering, was zapped and telling him to rest, but he did not. He wanted Katy to derive again and he knew how to make that come about. So he jammed his finger up her ass and started pumping his drained dong into her as hard as he could without throwing his backrest out.

She squealed when she felt the bullet up her bottom. Then she bellowed, ugh…ugh…ugh… with each of his thrusts.

Her orgasm was another twisty bodyquake, high on the Katy shell. Her cum flowed big, and oozed out of her. Dillon felt it surround his stopcock and drip down his balls. It puddled on the bed.

When Dillon pulled out he collapsed onto the bed beside her, held her and their sapped bodies slept.

*

Sonia enjoyed the show, although it was strictly audile through the lean walls. It was like an X-rated receiving set syllabus. She'd never listened to her little babe fuck before, but it was quite the turn-on. She imagined Katy in the future room, with her young devotee on top of her, pounding her, making her scream like that. But she felt a lull come over her. She now knew her sis would be alright, because she was already healing, getting the prick fucked out of her by the man she had not yet admitted that she was in honey with. With the titillating sounds and mind-vision of her 39 class old sister in the next room getting laid by her xxiv yr old lover, she masturbated, then quickly fell asleep.

In the middle of the nighttime, Dillon woke up and walked into the bathroom adjacent to the master bedchamber. He closed the door and turned on the brightness level. His oral cavity was dry, and tasted funky. He found some gargle under the sink and took a swig, squished it around and patter it into the sink. He turned on the faucet, ran the water onto his paw and scooped a potable from his palms. He splashed his fount and dried it. He raised the privy buns and took a news leak, then lowered the buns. He flushed, hoping he wouldn't wake Katy.

But Katy was awake. She'd stirred when he got out of bed, watched his sexy shape as he walked to the lav, watched the door close and the light come on. She heard the water running, then the phone of him pissing. The toilet flushed, the spigot was running again. She reached over and felt around in the draftsman of her nightstand and found what she was looking for. She popped the top on the thermionic valve and squeezed, rubbed the sebaceous stuff all over her custody, and fingered herself.

The privy light went off, the door opened and Dillon came back to bed and lay beside her in the darkness. She immediately grabbed his limp dick and stroked it with her slick hand. He turned to her in the dark and they kissed. Katy pivoted her torso and went down on him, and sucked him for a minute until his pecker reached its maximum rigourousness, distance and girth. Then she lay back beside him and pulled him on top of her. She splayed her legs spacious and guided his cock to her opening.

"fucking me,"she whispered.

He pushed his prick into her. It was soaked, but he slid in with a sweet friction and knew right away that Katy had fed his putz into her ass. He kissed her again, deeply, tenderly, and she moaned as he pushed himself all the way in.

Katy reached down between her legs and stroked her clitoris, which was already swollen with expectation. As Dillon began fucking her, she pulled her induction harder and harder, wanting to match his movements and come big when he did.

Dillon broke a light elbow grease as he propelled his pecker in and out of her. It had been four long age since he'd buttfucked her, but he was now in a state of rapture. As his remains, slippery prick sledded in and out of her, and he felt the business firm, hot pressure of her perfective tense ass around it, he felt like he was finally home.

He picked up his pace and he grunted when he felt his semen start to rise.

Katy knew her man. Four years ? It seemed like it yesterday. She stroked herself harder and faster.

"founder it to me !"she wheezed, shortstop of breath.

Dillon gave it to her. His dead body shook with each of his spasms as he fired his warhead mysterious inside her, but he stayed in place because his shaft was like an eight inch stud up her ass.

When he pulled out of her, Katy was still plucking her clitoris like it was an electric sea bass, reaching for her climax. Dillon was about to put his sassing down there and do his matter, when Katy howled like a wounded wolf and her torso shivered and she came in the iniquity. They quickly fell asleep.

The sun was up when they woke later that dawn. They said effective morning, kissed and Dillon spooned Katy from behind, holding her tight, not wanting to let her go. But soon he was kissing her neck and licking her ear, and then Katy turned to face him and they were kissing, and both were aroused, and they screwed again. But it was a stark direct contrast to their raunchy, middle-of-the-night assfuck. They made slow, preciously love, taking the sentence to point their attentions to every nook and cranny and cleavage and orifice of their dead body. Afterward, they held each former in secretiveness. No actor's line were necessity.

But Dillon was thinking. He was thinking about how it was Sat morning time and he would hold one More day with Katy before he left to drive back to his apartment and his job. He was thinking that he didn't go family live on night and his phratry would know why. He was thinking about Millie, and how the gossip John Mill was probably already turning. Katy was the first off one to address, breaking the quiet and interrupting his opinion, but practically reading his mind.

"relocation in with me,"she said.

That got Dillon's attention. Did he hear her right ?"Huh ?"he said.

"I said, relocation in with me."

"Move in with you ? What, here ?"

"Of course, here. Where else ?"

"Really ?"

"Yes, really. Why not ? It's cheap rent, the theater is paid for. That's one positive that came out of my divorce. What's the matter, you don't want to ?"

"No, it's not that. It's just…I live and work three hundred miles from here."

"So ? Quit. You can find a job here, if the caller can't relocate you. Or salutary yet, get a real acres licence, we'll oeuvre together. I do pretty well, I'm sure you would too. We'd make a underworld of a team, don't you think ?"

He nodded."Yes, I believe we would."

"So, what's the problem ?"

"No job. Just unexpected, I guess. Are you indisputable about this ?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Dillon. It's not an offer I'd give to just anyone, and not without heedful condition. I've intellection about it over and over."She got out of bed, stood up, looked down at him."I'm sure. And do you experience why I'm indisputable ? I'm surely because I've spent so much time thinking about you and missing you and I feel like I've waited four long time for you. You make me feel adept, you make me laugh, you make me happy. And I love the way we fuck. And… Well… I love you. There. I said it. Now I'm going to take a shower."

Dillon watched her shapely, raw ass disappear into the bathroom, leaving the room access assailable. He heard her turn on the exhibitor. He laughed quietly to himself. Something that he'd thought about for old age, something that he thought could never materialise, was happening. He got off the bed and walked into the bathroom. He slid the exhibitioner door aside and stepped in beside her. Katy's tits were covered with soap.

"Katy, thank you for telling me how you feel. Because I love you too. I've loved you for years. But I was afraid to tell you."

"I was afraid, too,"she said, washing his shoulders.

"You were ?"

"Yep. I was afraid you thought I was too old for you."

"Really ? I was afraid you thought I was too young."

"Nah, you're just right. You make me happy."

"You make me well-chosen too. I love you, Katy."

"I love you, Dillon."

Dillon moved under the sprayer and they kissed, a deep, wet wing-dinger, as the water pounded them.

"So, how did you get over the veneration ?"he asked."What made you adjudicate to tell me ?"

"It was something my baby said. She said that it was so obvious that we were in love. The way we looked at each other, the way we hugged, the way we interacted. I knew she was rightfield and I just hadn't admitted it yet. I knew I had to do something before you got away again."

They kissed and ran their wet, soapy digit over their wet, soapy bodies, and before you could say ‘ I'm hard again ’, Dillon was hard again. Less than a half minute after they'd made passion in bed, they made love again in the rain shower. With their mouths plastered together, and his hands cupped under her arse, and her legs wrapped around his waist, and his pecker mysterious inside her, and her back against the tile wall, they fucked for the first time as confide fan, and they came in an reverberate unison of coming just as the water pouring down upon them ran cold.

-- --

It was belatedly forenoon by the metre Katy and Dillon made their way to the kitchen in search of food. There was a note from Sonia on the kitchen table. She was gone. The gist of the note was that by the auditory sensation she'd heard coming out of Katy's bedroom, she knew that Katy would be fine without her wall hanging around. She wished them the best.

The rest of the weekend was a nonstop love-in. They rarely left the sleeping accommodation. They had too a lot catching up to do. Dillon never even went back over to see his parents, or to say goodbye when he left. He figured he'd wait until he got back to tell them that he was going to be their newest next door neighbor.

He left at four a.m. on Mon so he would get to the office on time. He had a engaged day planned. In plus to several appointments, he had to typewrite up his alphabetic character of surrender and give his two-week notice. His executive program was storm when he told him he was leaving, but couldn't offer to relocate him. That was OK with Dillon ; Katy had said she would find out when and where the very estate row were being given so he could hit the earth running when he got back.

He called his female parent after the first of all calendar week and told her he would be moving in with Katy. She wasn't surprised. She said she knew what was going on after he came back from the funeral and went over to her house, and never came back. She also said Millie was on the case.

He had no problem getting out of his apartment. His roomie's girlfriend had been staying over a lot anyway, and now she could just move in and take his plaza. It worked out for the advantageously for all of them.

-- --

Early on Sat morn, the day after his last day at piece of work, Dillon packed his car with as much of his stuff as he could fit into the car, the trunk, and tied to the roof rails, and hit the road, and made that long, lonely movement for the finally prison term. He spent near of the five hour in deep persuasion, thinking about Katy, and all the nasty things they were going to do when he got there. It was mid-afternoon by the time he got to Katy's house, and he didn't know it, but he was in for a big surprisal. He was soon to detect out that he and Katy would not be living in the family alone.

Katy was waiting for him. She'd been looking out the window every five minutes for over an hour. When he pulled into the driveway, she emerged onto the front porch. She had a big smiling on her face as Dillon walked to the porch. She stepped down to greet him.

"Welcome home,"she said, as she took him into her munition."Just in case there are any neighbour watching, let's give them something to talk about."

She kissed him, jamming her natural language into his mouth. Wrapped in four implements of war, they shared one of the longest, inscrutable osculation they'd ever had. When they finally ended the candy kiss, they were laughing.

"That ought to do it. Let's undulation to Millie."

They both turned toward Millie's sign of the zodiac, three threshold down on the niche, and waved. They knew she was probably peeking through one of her curtains, watching.

Katy took Dillon's hand and led him into the house.

"Now, Dillon,"Katy said,"I don't want you to get mad. I know I didn't discuss this with you, but I invited soul else to portion the firm with us."

"You did ?"he said, already wondering what kind of tinker's dam bucketful he'd stepped into.

"Yes. Do you like three-ways ?"

"Do I like three-ways ? What do you intend ?"

"Three-way. tierce. Threesome. bring off a trois. Whatever you want to forebode it. You know. You and me and another little girl. In bed together."

Dillon felt like he'd just driven five hour into the Twilight zone.

"You're into that ?"

"Sure, why not. Don't headache, I think you'll like her. She's really cool. I've been sleeping with her for a week."

"You have ?"

"Oh, yeah. She's great in bed. semen on, I'll introduce you."

In a shock he followed her to the guest sleeping room at the far end of the hall. Katy opened the door and went into the room, Dillon was right behind. Then he saw her.

She was lying on the bed, on top of a jumble of blankets. Her eyes were blinking, as if she just woke up. She was gorgeous.

Dillon burst out laughing. So did Katy. They walked over to their new, rudely-awakened housemate : A beautiful, shiny, egg white German sheepman pup !

"You had me going, you stinker,"he said."I'll larrup your ass when I get you in the sack."

"Ooh, I hope so."

"She's beautiful. What's her public figure ?"He rubbed her ears and stroked her back.

"I thought I'd leave that up to you,"she said.

"noblewoman ! What else ?"

Katy picked up a small gift-wrapped software off of the dresser and handed it to him. He ripped it open. It was a garden pink and downcast collar with an tie cordiform tag that had ‘ Lady'etched into it.

"Ah, you knew."

"I know my man."She kissed him gently on his lips.

"What a nice surprise,"he said."Thank you. Lady is beautiful, I love her already. But she just woke up, she probably needs to go out. Why don't we take her for a walk and contribution her beauty with the neighborhood ? It'll help get the hearsay mill cranked up."

"Sounds like a plan."

So they put lady's shoe collar around her neck opening and hooked up her 3, and they took a leisurely stroll around the block. And when they got back to the theatre, Dillon dragged Katy into the bedroom. They tore each others'dress off and they jumped into bed, along with Lady, and they had their very first make out a trois. Or threesome. Or trio. Or three-way, or whatever you want to call it. Katy and Dillon made loud, passionate sexual love, but for the most piece, Lady just watched.

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