Note : This is a work of fable, events and characters are a product of generator 's imagination. The only two quality who have sex are over 20 years of age.

FOR C.J.

Early on Tuesday morning, Dillon's jail cell phone rang and woke him out of a dead rest. It was too early on to take a call, 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 right mind calls this former. Why didn't I turn this damn telephone set off last night ?, he wondered. But he was funny and looked at the phone. The call was coming from a bit he recognized. It was the landline in the house where he grew up. So he answered.

"Hi, Mom,"he said into the phone. He knew his male parent would never name him unless he suspected him of stealing his golf clubs.

"Good morning, Honey,"his mother said.

"form of betimes, Mom, isn't it ? What's up ?"

"I know honey, but I have to leave for body of work soon. And I thought you'd want to know."

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

"C.J. died."

Dillon's tenderness sank. He and his mother sat in telephony silence for a long moment. Finally, he asked,"When ?"

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

Another extended interruption.

"Poor Katy,"he said, and exhaled as teardrop formed in his center."Have you spoken to her ?"

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

"poor Katy,"he repeated.

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

"Yes, Mom, Thank You. And please get hold out the funeral arranging 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 the right way affair to do ?"

"It's the solitary affair 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 years younger, and his parents, Tanya and Miles. The textbook nuclear family unit. His parents still lived there. Dillon now lived in a townsfolk three hundred miles from there. He had moved away various years before under somewhat of a cloud. He thought it was the right thing to do at the meter, considering the circumstances he faced. He thought if he moved away, someplace where nobody knew him, he could spend his days living his life instead of trying to outlive his past.

When Dillon was a boy, a young couple moved in future room access to them. The new neighbour, Katy and Cliff, were young marrieds in their twenties, and despite the fact that they were nine or ten years younger than his parents, they all soon became unspoilt neighbors and friends. And Dillon liked his new neighbor almost instantly. Because of Lady.

Lady was a hit, beautiful T. H. White German Shepherd. Katy and Cliff had found the dog on the side of a road, 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 cure. They ran ads for weeks, trying to happen dame's owner. No response. They were okay with that. By then, they loved Lady, and lady loved them.

Dillon fell in making 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 give birth thrown her soggy tennis balls a million prison term, and she happily ran them down and returned them to him, and softly dropped them at his feet.

Dillon became the next-door-neighbor-all-around helper to Katy and Cliff. He tended to noblewoman of row, but also took care of many other job to urinate a little money. He helped in the yard, weeded their garden, cleaned the pack of cards, shoveled their private road 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 week and Dillon was a big help.

When Katy became pregnant, Dillon was nine years old and got a crash course on the birds 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 grocery or whatever else she had, inside for her. She worked as a really estate agent, so she was always lugging a bag full moon of newspaper publisher and files.

Over the months, as her stomach grew, Dillon had conversations with Katy like he'd never before had with an adult. She didn't talk down to him, or treat him like a child. She was actually interest in what he had to say.

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

"I don't aid,"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 expectant months. When Katy finally gave nascency, she had a lilliputian boy. He was named after his father. Clifford Junior. Katy called him C.J. from the starting signal. But it did not flex out to be the happy, consecrate issue everyone was expecting.

Before long it became obvious that something was not decent with the little boy, and after umpteen trial and referrals and doctors and prayers and conniption of angst and imprint and optimism and hopelessness, they learned that their precious little boy had muscular dystrophy. And it wasn't the run-of-the-mill, everyday brawny dystrophy, which was bad enough, but it was the ugly, ruthless, wickedness, blackness sheep cousin-german of M.D., the one that guaranteed a suddenly lifespan. Duchenne syndrome, they called it. C.J. was a very sick little boy.

-- --

After the headphone call from his mother, Dillon went to knead that day and went through the motions for eight hours. He was a salesman for a company that sold lawn, garden and farm equipment, but he didn't sell anything that day. Not even close. His nitty-gritty and mind were far away. About the solely matter he accomplished was to arrange to take a copulate days off so he could go back abode, or what was once his abode, and attend the funeral.

He got back to his apartment that night, ate a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of soup for dinner party, and did a incumbrance of laundry. He was felicitous his roommate wasn't around because he wasn't in the mood to gossip. He had just started to pack a bag for the misstep when his mother called and told him the funeral programme. There would be screening on each of the next two nights, Wednesday and Thursday, and the funeral would be Fri daybreak. He decided he would mould Wednesday, and drive there on Thursday for the viewing. If all went well he could look the funeral on Friday, and have the weekend to visit with his ethnic music and maybe a friend or two.

-- --

The first few eld of C.J.'s life were a steady parade of Doctor's bureau, psychometric test, grim news and Leslie Townes Hope for a miracle. It put a great mental strain on Katy and cliff of row, and their marriage began to suffer. Katy was a strong mom, but her gloominess was a weight that became harder and harder to mask. drop-off had a dreadful clock time coping with having a terminally-ill child, as if his spermatozoon 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 and Sir Thomas More, and drank more and more, distancing himself, trying to minify the pain and desperation. As C.J. was growing up, his dad was not a lot of a ingredient. His parents eventually separated, got back together, separated again. Wash, rinse, Repeat.

Dillon continued doing the chores Katy asked him to do, often with C.J. sitting in his wheelchair on the back deck, watching him. He'd always relieve oneself a gunpoint to sit with C.J. for a while, and they would talk about affair. A lot of thing. Especially sports.

Dillon was amazed with C.J.'s knowledge of variation, especially baseball and football game. Although he'd never play the games, even at the age of six or seven C.J. knew the linguistic rule and all the thespian and their number and their stats and where they'd gone to college, and he asked smart questions. He knew the history of the mutation, facts and events from way before his time, stuff of which Dillon had no clue. female parent Nature had given C.J. a badly-damaged torso, but she had also given him a brilliant and curious mind.

By the time Dillon was a older in in high spirits school, he was a superstar on the baseball team. Katy would bring C.J. to all the home plate secret plan and would park his wheelchair in the exceptional spot the team had reserved for him, where he'd root for his team. The musician would arrive over to him and say hi, and considered him the team mascot and their routine one fan.

Over the old age Dillon had spent century and hundreds of hour doing chores for Katy, and outgo meter talking with her and C.J. As a result, he came to substantiate two very of import things.

One, C.J. was not just an unfortunate person, disabled kid who happened to live next door. 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 last admirer. Like the piddling brother he'd never had.

And two, he no longer just viewed Katy as the awe-inspiring mom future room access who didn't talk down to him and paid him to do Book of Job that needed to be done around the theatre. He saw her differently now. She was a friend, yes, but she was a woman. A strong, attractive adult female. Some innocent toying happened from metre to time. So what if she's fifteen year older, he thought. No harm done.

He found himself admiring her pretty typeface, garnish body, house breasts, and stiff ass. And he always noticed her fingernails. They were always manicured and neatly polished, and regardless of what color she'd chosen for her former 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 of instruction. Why would a thirty-something, semi-married adult female with a sick child be occupy in an XVIII year old boy ? He tried to put her out of his psyche. He went off to college and canvass and got involved in a figure of activities. He partied and slept with various girls. But when he came home for holidays or summer vacation, he would always spend time next door with Katy and C.J.

When Dillon came dwelling house for the summer after his sophomore yr of college, he was twenty years old. He went next door to visit, and learned that the doctor had placed C.J. in a intervention facility for a few days for another bombardment of trial. That's when his affair with Katy began.

-- --

It was a five hour private road. Dillon didn't remember nearly of it, which form of scared him. He had no remembrance of miles and miles of main road that had disappeared into his rear scene mirror. His mind was focused on what lay ahead. How was Katy holding up ? Would Cliff fix a fit ? How would people respond when he showed up ? Would he be welcomed, or sneered at ? Would his parents be embarrassed, or would they tolerate him ?

He'd timed things perfectly. The screening was scheduled for six- until eight p.m., and he pulled into the funeral home parking lot at 6:30. He drove to the farthest end and parked his car. He sat, rested, waited. He reached to his right and picked up the small nursing bottle of nail refinement from the passenger seat. Ne purpleness. 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 breathing spell, straightened his tie, opened the threshold, got out, retrieved his sport pelage from the crotchet above the backseat windowpane, and walked to the building.

-- --

Dillon got home on a Thursday afternoon in previous May after completing his sophomore year of college. In a week or two he'd receive his course and officially be a Jnr. He would be plate for three calendar month, and would start his summer job in a few days. After dinner with his parents, he noticed that Katy's car still was not parked in her driveway next threshold. It hadn't been there earlier when he'd gotten home, which was not unusual, but Katy always made a percentage point to sustain C.J.'s dinner ready at the same time every night, and now it was well past that fourth dimension. He looked out the window periodically, checking for Katy's car. At a little after nine o'clock he noticed that her car was now in her drive. It was getting a bit former for a social call, but when he saw the light go on in the den, he figured what the hell, he'd go over and say hi.

When Katy opened the room access, he could order right away that something was wrong. Her blond hair was bunched into a cabbage chunk atop her head, her blouse was wrinkled, her lean face looked stressed along with her fag eyes.

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

She burst into crying. Dillon didn't know what to say, but instinctively took her into his arms and hugged her. That was a for the first time, but he held her tightly, felt the curves of her torso intemperately against his. She hugged him back, put her header against his shoulder, and cried harder. He let her cry.

When her tears subsided they went into the den. They sat on the lounge, slope by side. Katy explained that C.J. had had an blast of some variety and couldn't breathe. She called 911. He was back in the infirmary. More trial, more scans, more doctors. She was a queasy shipwreck and scared shitless. Dillon tried to calm her as best he could, tried to insure her. cliff was not around, as usual.

He noticed he was holding her hand. He looked at her slender fingers, her polished nails. All of her nails were painted black, except one : Her right pinkie was purple. He'd always been curious about this wont of hers, this purple pinky. He'd noticed it many times, and no thing whether the respite of her nails were polished or not, her right pinkie always was, and always stood out in bright purple.

"What's with the purple pinky ?"he asked, wrapping his fingers 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 pinky. She squeezed back.

"You know his preferent football game team ?"she said.

"Of course. The Ravens."

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

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

Katy shook her forefront."My misfortunate minuscule boy,"she blurted, and burst into another flowage of tears.

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

"Thanks for coming over, Dillon. I'm sorry, I guess I needed someone to lecture to."

"It's okey. I'm gladiola I'm here."

"You're always so leisurely to verbalize to."

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

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

They sat quietly for a bit. Holy Scripture escaped him. He nestled his cheek into her hair. It smelled good, like mature melons. Then, by instinct, as if it were the most logical thing to do, he kissed the top of her head.

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

Rubbery, was his first persuasion. Soft. Sensual. Not like most of the hard-lipped, forced college girl kisses he'd had. Really nice, felt innate. His rim lingered on hers for a moment before he backed away. Her eye were wide, two unblinking round 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 to do that. delight forgive me."

"Don't be pitiful, it's okey,"she replied, and gently pulled his hand toward her."I like it. It felt good. I want to experience good."Her fingers laced deeper into his. She took a deep breathing time and said,"Do it again."

Dillon tightened his grip on her shoulder joint, dug in, made sure she felt it. He pulled her to him and their upper trunk touched, then melded. His hand went to her breast and he thumbed her pixilated tit through the flimsy fabrics of her blouse and bra. When he put his face to hers, Katy's lips 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 astuteness. Dillon sucked her tongue, which was swirling like a lizard in his rima oris. He felt her boob firmly against his bureau, her coat of arms around him, and her leg looped over his. The osculate went on, a duet of clapper, until saliva oozed between their lips and their groyne were on high alert.

When their mouths finally separated, Katy peppered Dillon's face with kiss tidy sum, saying,"I need this. I want this."She pivoted her body, straddled his legs, sat on his lap, facing him. She felt his prick hard against her crotch. She kissed him again with capable lips, her glossa on a rampage, two hungry sassing screwing while she ground her mound onto his swollen cock and pressed her stoked embrace against his chest. The candy kiss went on, their hands roamed on backs and derriere, he was hard, she was wet.

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

She unsaddled him, rose up, took his mitt and led him to the bedroom. The bedchamber where by this time, now being more or less separated from her married man, she slept alone. Standing beside the queen bed, they kissed. She admired his well-favoured side, encompassing shoulders and slim, acrobatic body as she unbuttoned and unzipped him, top to penetrate. Dillon returned the favor.

Naked, their trunk plunged onto the bed. Katy's back talk was ravenous, attacking his, sucking his tongue into her oral cavity. Her spry hands and fingers squeezed his ass, surrounded his tool. Dillon followed along, but painting by phone number.

He suddenly realized that he was in way over his head. What to do ?, he wondered. This is a mature char, not some slow college broad with no more experience than he. He wanted to please her, he had to. He decided to take ascendancy, cull up the tempo. Pushing, grinding, overdoing.

"Hey,"Katy said warmly, running her fingerbreadth through his poor, brown hair."Take it well-heeled. admit your meter. 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 brim hypnotizing him. With her workforce on either side of his head, she guided it downward until her twat was in his grimace. She fingered her clit in front of his face.

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

Dillon dove in. He took her swollen yield into his lip, molded his mouth around it, tasted it with piano caresses, and she hissed when he slipped his tongue inside her. He planted his hands under the cheek of her ass and held tight, mashing face to twat. He explored her hungry, squirmy twat with his tongue, and savored her wet, salty sapidity. He kept at it, stayed down there, and wouldn't come up for air until he'd let what he was after.

Katy's body writhed with pleasure as he ate her. Her hired hand were firmly adhered to his head as she smushed her crotch into his face. She started grinding her puss into his brass, and soon was pumping it, fucking his mouthpiece. Dillon sucked her like a straw.

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

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

She pulled his head up to hers and kissed him, tasted her cum in his mouth. As they kissed, his body atop hers, she wrapped her hand around his dick and fed it into her soppy snatch. It slid into her with slick ease, balls deep.

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

She wrapped her ramification around his like tentacles and squeezed, tightening like a boa, as if to get every last drop of juice from a stinker. Dillon took the not-so-subtle clue. He clenched her tail end 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 eubstance into it. Their fucking took on a staccato calendar method, like rim jibe on a gin, smack slapdash nip nip, while the bed springiness played hi-hat.

It went on, and on, their genitals colliding on a quest for dismission, and they kissed as they fucked. Dillon was going to dump a payload of his semen into this beautiful, maturate adult female, he knew that, but he slowed for a metre, not wanting to fluff his top too soon. Her pleasure would come before his.

Two sweaty dead body throbbing. Two mouths and glossa plastered together. Two hands clenching two backside brass, four legs tightly entwined. One thrusting cock-filled cunt.

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

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

She came in another torrent, barely less than her first. She pinched his pecker with her out-of-shape twat sinew and dug her fingertips into his amphetamine 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 of meat, looking at each other, and their faces broke into wide smiles.

"That was wonderful,"she said.

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

"Oh, please…"

"You have no mind how many clock time I fantasized about this. About being in bed with you."

"Really ?"

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

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

They held each other, closed their oculus, and drifted off, resting in the gleaming of their lovemaking.

*

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

It was only ten transactions later. His blazonry were still around her, and hers were around him. Their center were inches apart.

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

"I haven't eaten since early this dawn, had a danish pastry and a coffee from the machines at the hospital. Wasn't hungry all day, but I am now. How ‘ round I fix us some tuna angle sandwiches ?"

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

"What's funny ?"Katy asked.

"Opuntia tuna fish."

"tuna Pisces the Fishes is funny ? Why ? Don't you like it ?"

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

"Um, I guess so."

"I mean, we say bluefish or John Rock Pisces the Fishes because those words have different significance. But there's no former meaning for tuna, so why add the Fish to it ? We don't say ‘ flounder fish'or ‘ haddock fish'or ‘ trout angle ’. We don't say ‘ beefburger cow ’, or ‘ pork chop pig ’. So why do we say tuna Pisces the Fishes ?"

"I really couldn't Tell you Dillon,"she said."Maybe it's the Lapp reason we don't say ‘ Pisces the Fishes chops ’."

Dillon broke out laughing, then Katy did too. She reached down between his legs to rub his second joint and damn if his dick wasn't hard.

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

She went down on him and took his cock into her mouth. She slipped her heart finger into his SOB and reamed him from behind as she sucked him. Within minutes Dillon grunted and bucked and came in squirt into Katy's oral fissure and pharynx. When he was done, she wiped her lip on the counterpane, got up and put on a robe.

"There. Now you rest a bit, big thinker. Just lie back and reflect on the great tuna Pisces the Fishes enigma while I make us a couple sandwiches."

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

*

Their affair lasted near of the summer. They had to be discerning, of course, so once or twice a week Dillon would sneak over tardily at nighttime, long after C.J. was at peace. They would pretend love as quietly as possible, and after they both came a yoke metre he would pussyfoot back out.

No one suspected a affair until it all blew up one Saturday night in early August. They were in the eye of a fervid sixty-nine when a drunken Cliff showed up unannounced and caught them in the act. He went ballistic, screaming, throwing matter, breaking things, calling them name calling, threatening them. He chased a scantily clad Dillon out of the house, screaming at him, told him to ‘ get the hell on earth out before I kill you ’.

Cliff made sure the unhurt neighborhood and half the town knew all about it. Millie, the neighborhood gabfest had a field of battle day. Katy and Dillon were shamed and ridiculed, she was a tramp and he was a horny college dickhead who couldn't keep his pecker in his pants. Dillon's parents were greatly embarrassed too, which didn't help him at rest home, and didn't help their family relationship with their neighbour.

C.J. was greatly upset by this routine of events. The family turmoil was bad enough, but he would also be losing his best friend. 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 covered porch of the funeral home, Dillon took another prospicient, late breath before he opened the smoked glass door and entered. He walked tentatively through the lobby and down the foyer, passing several mass he didn't recognize, until he found the right room. He signed the client volume outside the threshold, then entered.

He scanned the crowded room and didn't see any familiar faces at start, but soon sensed a cool vibe. The feeling of eyes upon him, question turning quickly away when he glanced at them. He looked around, searching for Katy but not finding her, feeling self-conscious, like he was in a fish bowl. Then a virile spokesperson to his exit broke his concentration.

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

It was Cliff. He wore an old, wrinkled seersucker suit, and looked bloated, heavier. There was beer on his breath.

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

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

Cliff wobbled away and Dillon eyed the far end of the room. He spotted Katy off to the slope, standing in front of a rampart of efflorescence, talking to an sometime couple that looked vaguely familiar. He started walking toward her and the crowd of Edgar Guest parted like the Red Sea before him. He stopped about eight feet away from her.

It had been nearly four old age, but suddenly the meaning of the set phrase ‘ a sight for sore eye'hit him like a lightning thunderbolt. She still looked incredible. Tired, but strong and beautiful. She wore a long-sleeved disgraceful dress that hugged her slim form. Her blonde hair was whipped back in a french twist, and her earrings matched the colouring material of her sky-blue eyes.

He stood there, taking her in. Once she saw him, their eyes locked. The couplet she was talking to comment it, looked at him, then back at her, and faded away. They held their gaze for a long, frozen mo, oblivious to the spectators in the room. Dillon raised his rightfield helping hand, with his purple-nailed pinky extended. Katy did the Lapp with her redress hired man, the bright purple brilliantly contrasting the inglorious polish on the remainder of her nails. There was a sad smile on her human face. The spectators were amused and confused by the gestures.

He walked toward her, right into her arms. The diverse guest watched their tightly-wrapped bodies as they hugged. Dillon felt the slug of her chest against him, and whiffed the look of fresh fruit in her tomentum. Their bodies 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 course. 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 lineup and letters meant so practically to him."

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

They finally broke their embrace and Katy took his helping hand and led him over to the casket. They looked down at C.J., whose boldness was pale with a slight suggestion of a smile. Dillon started crying softly when he saw how he was dressed. He was wearing his jersey from Dillon's heights schooltime baseball team.

"It seemed only rightfield that he wear thin his baseball tee shirt,"Katy said."It was his favorite piece of clothing. He treasured it."

Dillon put his arm around her again, pulled her close as his weeping dripped down his cheeks. They stood there together until his crying abated. They stepped away, off into a recess and continued their conversation. Katy handed him a tissue and he dabbed his heart and face.

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

"Of course,"he said.

"Can I ask a favor ?"

"Sure. Anything."

"It's a big one."

"What is it ?"

"Would you speak at the service ?"

"Really ? Me ?"

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

"Are you sure ? 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 shit I'll cry the cops."

"I'll be happy 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 unspoiled get back to your other Edgar Albert Guest,"he said, and gave her hand a business firm clinch."I'll see you tomorrow."

He walked across the room and out of the fishbowl with his head held richly, and he felt the multitude of eyes in the room covering him like shrink wrap.

-- --

Dillon stayed at his parents'house that Night, although he didn't lecture to them much, only for a few minutes. He told them he'd been asked to talk at the funeral service and he had to prepare. So he went to the trim chamber with pen and newspaper and tried to spell something down, something meaningful, but nothing of sum would number. His mind was a throw together, adrift in his memories of C.J. There were too many experiences and conversations to imbibe and mastermind. He was bone-tired, from the long cause, his lonely grief, and his visit to the fishbowl. He fell off to sleep without accomplishing much.

He slept like petrify wood. He woke up early, refreshed, and jotted down a tilt of bullet points on three-by-five cards. He didn't know if he'd speak for two minutes or twenty dollar bill. He trusted that his muse would depict up when the time was right.

Dillon walked into the funeral habitation twenty proceedings early and was surprised at the transformation the berth had gone through in sixteen hours. The bulwark that had separated the viewing rooms had disappeared and it was three or four times the sizing of the fishbowl he'd visited the night before. It was now one big room, like an auditorium, lined with row and rowing of folding chairs on two sides separated by a center aisle, prepare to conciliate a big turnout. The gang was trickling in. A bushed child was quite a draw.

Katy's one-time sister, Sonia, was on the lookout for Dillon. She spotted him, grabbed his arm, and escorted him up to the second row, far left. She handed him a remembrance cusp 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 minister will talk and then he'll announce when it's your crook. You're right after him. serious circumstances !"

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

Once the place was full moon and SRO, Katy was ushered down the aisle to the front row on the left side, and the show got on the road, right on time. Cliff was seated on the redress side, following to a Whitney Young woman.

Dillon sat through the former part of the service in a hazy haze. There were some comment, then some music, then the Rev spoke for fifteen minutes or so, reciting ***********ure and all of the appropriate, generic wine, cliched, God-has-a-plan mumbo jumbo. Then suddenly, he heard his public figure called.

He could almost feel the inhaled breath of the hushed attendants on his goose-fleshed sleeve as he strode to the podium. Once there, he looked out at the load down house, impressed by the size of it. Every seat was taken and others stood around the side of meat and back of the way. His men sifted through the pocket of his cap, shirt and trousers for his cue identity card, but they were not to be found. He'd left them in his car, where he'd live on practise. He would bear to wing it.

He cleared his pharynx, adjusted the mike, raised it up. train a deep breathing place. Nervous activity. Then he began.

"When I was asked to talk here today, I immediately said yes, but I was also immediately scared. And now that I'm here, before all of you, this amazingly boastfully 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 drop-off. For C.J.

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

"When I was a boy, Katy and Cliff moved into the house next doorway to my fellowship. We could severalize right away that they were great mass and would be great neighbors, and my family quickly accepted them into the neighbourhood and into our lives. 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 smoke and weed their garden in the summer, shovel their drive when it snowed, take care of their dog and tip their Fish when they were away, anything to earn a few dollars.

"After C.J. was born, and it became clear that he was not a rule, healthy child, but instead had an ugly, nasty disease, most of their time was devoted to his special motivation, his doctor date, his medical tests, his treatments, et cetera. Gradually, I was asked to do Sir Thomas More and Sir Thomas More job around their house and property because they just didn't have the time. I mended fences, washed windows, cleaned out rain toilet, raked leaf, stained the deck, you name it.

"As C.J. got older, he would sit outside in his wheelchair, on the presence porch or on the deck of cards out in the plump for yard, and he'd look out me work. And we would talk. We talked a lot. And by the sentence I was in my teens and C.J. was six years old, I realized that female parent Nature may have given him an unhealthy body, but at the same fourth dimension she had given him a brilliant young mind.

"We talked about many things, especially sports. Baseball and football 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 unseasoned age, he could read at a pretty high floor and he impressed me with his intelligence information. His wit, his vocabulary, his knowledge. He knew every player, knew their numbers and their stats and their superlative and free weight and where they went to college. He would amaze me and surprise me with historical facts about the actor and the team and the sport, stuff I never knew, and I thought I knew a lot.

"And his attitude was always positive. I can't remember him ever feeling sorry for himself. But I do think back thinking, how can this little guy, whose consistence was so weak, be so strong ? I began to realize that C.J. was not just the kid next threshold, not just some young friend. He was the picayune 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 startle and play globe with other kids, and have to use a wheelchair ? He looked down for a minute, then up at me. And with traces of tears in his eyes, he said, ‘ No, I don't get mad. But I get sad sometimes. Sad because it is so hard on my parents. I hate being such a burden to them ’. Even with all the adversity he'd faced in his life, 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 heights school and he followed my teams like he did the professional, and we talked about every game. In the spring of my senior year, as my baseball team was in preparation for the upcoming season, C.J., who was nine or ten years old by this time, told me he was going to fall to all the home game and root for our team. I don't know if I believed that that would really happen or not, but I went to see my coach a few daytime before our first game. I asked him if I could buy an extra 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 offspring life, and how very much he liked our team, and I'd like to give him a hat. double-decker 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 psyche and held that uniform in his handwriting, and fondled the letter of the alphabet on the breast of the Jersey, he treasured it. And that season, Katy made sure he made it to every base game. tutor cleared a special box adjacent to our dugout and the stands, just for him, and to oblige his wheelchair, and you could see the joy on his cheek when the players and bus would come over to escape from his hand and say Hi to him. He came to every plate biz that time of year, dressed in his uniform and cap, to steady down us on. He is wearing that very Saami island of Jersey today.

"There was one game late in the season, a low-scoring pitchers'duel. I pitched a two-hitter and hit a solo home plate run to win the biz one-to-nothing. After the game and a mild celebration, I went over to his box. Katy and C.J. both had big grinning on their faces, happy as I'd ever seen them. And do you know what C.J. told me ? He said he was proud of me ! Can you think that ? He was proud of me !

"Well, I felt the emotion rise up in me like a flash alluvion. All I did was win a ball game. But I thought of all he had been through in his youthful sprightliness, and of all the strong suit and persistence he had to take every exclusive day, just to get through it all. I was on the verge of tears. I told him thank 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 much I respected him, and loved him. I hope he knows that, and knows how very much I've missed him.

"We all face hills and valleys in our lives. Good sentence, bad clip, glad times, sad clock time. Ups and Down. And whenever I reach a low point, a time when I feel bad, or overwhelmed, and want to quit or fall in up or finger dingy for myself, I think of C.J. And it makes me feel better, it makes me palpate substantial, and suddenly things don't seem so bad. I feel like that's a gift he gave me.

"I should cause 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 friend, my little crony. This populace could use a few more than people like C.J."

You could have heard a pin drop cloth as Dillon left the ambo with all heart upon him. He was choked up, to the full of emotion, the weeping were bubbling in his middle, but he'd somehow gotten through it. He glanced at Katy as he walked back to his bottom. She nodded and gave him a teary, satisfied grinning. 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 period of the service, which was a fuzz of Word of God, medicine, and a prayer. Afterwards, he stood outside the funeral household, chatting with his parents and his sister Irene. In a matter of minutes, three different people came up to him and congratulated him on his panegyric. One said it was the honest he'd ever heard.

Dillon and his family went to Katy's sign of the zodiac afterwards for some food for thought and enculturation and commiseration, but they didn't stay too long. But they were there long enough for Cliff to get along up to Dillon and actually rationalize, and to congratulate and thank him for his pean. As they were about to lead, Katy pulled him aside and asked him to derive back later, after the other Edgar Albert Guest were gone. He said he would.

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

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

"So what, I can say you like a book. Trust me, you will. It's all over your case, 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 head and smiled. She didn't argue with her sister.

-- --

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

They were in the living room, to the left field of the foyer. Sonia was seated in an loose professorship facing Katy, who was on the sofa. Mellow jazz was playing softly. Katy patted the sofa cushion to her left, and Dillon took a seat next to her.

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

For the next hour they sipped lemonade and talked about the day : The military service, the sermonizer, the guests. Katy was well-chosen with the way everything had gone, especially please that Cliff had behaved himself. She then recapped for Dillon the highlight and lowlights of her divorce. She was relieved she would not give to divvy up with drop-off again.

When the pitcher was empty, Sonia excused herself."fountainhead, I'm going to turn in,"she said, as she stood up."It's been a crazy few years. Goodnight Sis. Goodnight Dillon, and thank you again for your encomium. Everyone agreed it was wonderful. C.J. would have 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 helping hand in hers, the maiden time they'd touched since he'd arrived."It was so existent, and so tender. Everyone was in tears."

"I was so queasy,"he said."I forgot my note. I left them in the car."

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

Nothing was said for a while. They just sat here, their bodies flush, their work force clasped, listening to subdued euphony, cherishing the simple pleasure of being together after so long. Katy nestled against him, Dillon rested his impertinence against her haircloth and breathed in her yummy, long-lost scent.

"This is nice,"Katy said, after some meter. Then she raised her head, turned to count at him, and after a momentary pause, kissed him.

Their lips parted and their athirst mouths went into overdrive, the once-familiar tongues becoming reacquainted. In a New York minute, their bodies turned and meshed and their arms locked around each other. Dillon felt her boob against his chest and pushed his hardening stopcock against her, and as if they were in a sentence 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 unbalanced, and I know it's been four years, but as soon as I laid center on you at the funeral home close night, I wanted you."

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

"halt with me tonight,"she said.

"Are you sure ?"He kissed her neck.

"I'm positive."Her bridge player found his phallus, thick and hard like she remembered.

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

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

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

"Good."

Katy put her face right up to his. She said :"Dillon, you and I are the two citizenry on terra firma who C.J. loved the most. We belong together tonight."

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

They rose and Katy led him by his paw to her chamber, shutting the door behind them. They tore their wearing apparel off as they french-kissed, each savoring the tasting of the other.

"Make love life to me,"Katy whispered."Like you used to."

It all came back in an wink. He knew exactly what she liked, and all of her scented stain. She moaned with his soupcon and her body was soon writhing and wouldn't hitch. He kissed her quivering thighs. He traced his tongue along the inside of her moistened lower backtalk, before plunging it inside her. Katy squeaked with pleasure, and Dillon drunk in the smell and taste of her, like a sip of cool sweetwater after four class in the desert.

He sucked her clit into his mouth, and just like the old days, Katy fell into the rock and fucked his face with a rhythm matching his. It was as if no time had passed.

Dillon's manus slithered under her butt, his fingertips dug into her crack, and he squeezed.

"Ugh,"Katy groaned. She had her quarter round in his ears and her fingers webbed around the cover of his head as he ate her.

Dillon hummed a slow melodic line into her slit, played her clit like a kazoo. Katy groaned loudly and squirmed some more. When she felt his finger's breadth enter her asshole her cunt was about to explode.

It didn't take long for her to get along the first base time. It had been a long while since she'd had sex and her loin were touch off happy. And Dillon knew how to labour all her buttons better than anyone ever had. She'd taught him well and he didn't miss a beat.

Katy shivered and half-screamed his name when her dike broke. He felt the wet, lovesome rush of her saved-up cum surround his natural language and rinse his cheek, and he tasted her juicy funk again, finally. He never thought this would occur 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 intimate with a woman than he was at that moment : Her clitoris in his mouth, his fingerbreadth up her ass, her cum on his face. But it was a fugitive thinking. His tool was swollen and hard and achy. It was sentence to fuck.

Katy was reading his thinker. When he put his slimy face up to hers, their lips had barely touched when he felt her stalwart grip around his tool. She fed it right into her slippery gash and started humping. No recovery time for this gal. She wanted it again.

No job. Dillon was ready to bust. But he didn't want to rush things. He wanted to take it last, earn it beautiful. He kissed her, slid his deal back under her ass. He lingered, took his time, kissing her with his dick inside her and his finger once again feeling their ways around her lovely butt. He wanted to sleep with her slowly. They fell into a gentle, loving rhythm.

"You like this ?"

"I love this."

Back and Forth, up and down, in and out, taking their clip, kissing, smiling, only gradually picking up fastness. Dillon knew he would have to come soon, so he picked up his pace and started banging her harder, then harder, and Katy was okay with that. Her pegleg were wrapped around his, constricting, as she slung her body at him over and over as his cock rammed her ripe twat.

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

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

"Yeah, Baby, give it to me. pass on it to me."

His organic structure shook with each hammered spurt. When his nuts were drained, his eubstance, still wavering, was zapped and telling him to rest, but he did not. He wanted Katy to come again and he knew how to pee-pee that happen. So he jammed his finger up her ass and started pumping his drained dong into her as hard as he could without throwing his back 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 tortuous bodyquake, high on the Katy scale. Her cum flowed big, and oozed out of her. Dillon felt it surround his cock 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 sap bodies slept.

*

Sonia enjoyed the show, although it was strictly auditory through the thin out bulwark. It was like an X-rated radio curriculum. She'd never listened to her little sister fucking before, but it was quite the turn-on. She imagined Katy in the next room, with her young lover on top of her, pounding her, making her scream like that. But she felt a still come over her. She now knew her sister would be alright, because she was already healing, getting the squat fucked out of her by the man she had not yet admitted that she was in dear with. With the titillating strait and mind-vision of her thirty-nine yr old sister in the succeeding room getting laid by her twenty-four year old lover, she masturbated, then quickly fell asleep.

In the heart of the night, Dillon woke up and walked into the lav adjacent to the master key bedroom. He closed the door and turned on the brightness. His mouth was dry, and tasted funky. He found some mouthwash under the swallow hole and took a swig, squished it around and spew it into the sink. He turned on the faucet, ran the H2O onto his men and scooped a drinkable from his laurel wreath. He splashed his aspect and dried it. He raised the toilet seat and took a outflow, then lowered the prat. He flushed, hoping he wouldn't wake Katy.

But Katy was awake. She'd stirred when he got out of bed, watched his sexy figure as he walked to the bathroom, watched the door close and the light come on. She heard the weewee running, then the sound of him pissing. The toilet flushed, the faucet was running again. She reached over and felt around in the drawer of her nightstand and found what she was looking for. She popped the top on the tube and squeezed, rubbed the oily stuff all over her manpower, and fingered herself.

The john light went off, the door opened and Dillon came back to bed and lay beside her in the darkness. She immediately grabbed his hobble peter and stroked it with her glossy hand. He turned to her in the dark and they kissed. Katy pivoted her body and went down on him, and sucked him for a minute until his shaft reached its maximum hardness, distance and girth. Then she lay back beside him and pulled him on top of her. She splayed her legs wide and guided his cock to her opening.

"screw me,"she whispered.

He pushed his pecker into her. It was soaked, but he slid in with a scented friction and knew right away that Katy had fed his cock 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 ramification and stroked her clit, which was already swollen with expectation. As Dillon began fucking her, she pulled her trigger harder and harder, wanting to gibe his drift and come big when he did.

Dillon broke a light travail as he propelled his shaft in and out of her. It had been four yearn years since he'd buttfucked her, but he was now in a state of exaltation. As his corpse, slippery cock sledded in and out of her, and he felt the house, hot atmospheric pressure of her perfect 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 eld ? It seemed like it yesterday. She stroked herself harder and faster.

"Give it to me !"she wheezed, short of breath.

Dillon gave it to her. His body shook with each of his muscle spasm as he fired his loading trench inside her, but he stayed in place because his dick was like an eight inch rivet up her ass.

When he pulled out of her, Katy was still plucking her clit like it was an galvanising bass, reaching for her climax. Dillon was about to put his mouth down there and do his thing, when Katy howled like a wounded wolf and her torso shivered and she came in the dark. They quickly fell asleep.

The sun was up when they woke later that sunrise. They said practiced 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 contrast to their raunchy, middle-of-the-night assfuck. They made slow, precious love, taking the time to show their aid to every corner and fissure and cleavage and orifice of their physical structure. Afterward, they held each early in silence. No quarrel were requirement.

But Dillon was thinking. He was thinking about how it was Saturday sunup and he would have 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 home stopping point nighttime and his fellowship would screw why. He was thinking about Millie, and how the small talk mill was probably already turning. Katy was the first one to verbalise, breaking the silence and interrupting his thought, but practically reading his mind.

"Move in with me,"she said.

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

"I said, motion in with me."

"Move in with you ? What, here ?"

"Of course, here. Where else ?"

"Really ?"

"Yes, really. Why not ? It's loud rent, the house is paid for. That's one positive that came out of my divorce. What's the thing, 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 feel a job here, if the company can't relocate you. Or better yet, get a real estate of the realm permission, we'll employment together. I do pretty well, I'm sure you would too. We'd make a Inferno of a team, don't you think ?"

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

"So, what's the problem ?"

"No problem. Just unexpected, I guess. Are you sure about this ?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Dillon. It's not an offering I'd nominate to just anyone, and not without careful consideration. I've thought about it over and over."She got out of bed, stood up, looked down at him."I'm sure. And do you know why I'm sure ? I'm sure because I've spent so much time thinking about you and missing you and I feel like I've waited four years for you. You make me feel dear, 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 claim a shower."

Dillon watched her shapely, naked ass disappear into the bathroom, leaving the room access opened. He heard her play on the cascade. He laughed quietly to himself. Something that he'd thought about for years, something that he thought could never materialize, was happening. He got off the bed and walked into the can. He slid the exhibitioner door aside and stepped in beside her. Katy's breast were covered with soap.

"Katy, thank you for telling me how you feel. Because I love you too. I've loved you for geezerhood. 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 happy too. I love you, Katy."

"I love you, Dillon."

Dillon moved under the spray 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 determine to secern me ?"

"It was something my sister 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 aright 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 fingers over their wet, soapy bodies, and before you could say ‘ I'm hard again ’, Dillon was hard again. to a lesser extent than a half time of day after they'd made love in bed, they made honey again in the rain shower. With their mouth plastered together, and his hand cupped under her butt, and her legs wrapped around his waist, and his dick deep inside her, and her back against the roofing tile wall, they fucked for the first time as charge fan, and they came in an repeat unison of sexual climax just as the water pouring down upon them ran cold.

-- --

It was late good morning by the time Katy and Dillon made their way to the kitchen in hunting of intellectual nourishment. There was a note from Sonia on the kitchen table. She was gone. The effect of the bank bill was that by the strait she'd heard coming out of Katy's bedchamber, she knew that Katy would be amercement without her hanging around. She wished them the best.

The rest of the weekend was a nonstop love-in. They rarely left the bedroom. They had too a lot catching up to do. Dillon never even went back over to see his parents, or to say sayonara when he left. He figured he'd wait until he got back to tell them that he was going to be their newest following 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 accession to respective appointments, he had to typewrite up his alphabetic character of resignation and cave in his two-week poster. His supervisor was surprised when he told him he was leaving, but couldn't offer to relocate him. That was fine with Dillon ; Katy had said she would find out when and where the real demesne courses were being given so he could hit the background running when he got back.

He called his mother after the first 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 firm, and never came back. She also said Millie was on the case.

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

-- --

Early on Saturday morning, the day after his last day at employment, Dillon packed his car with as much of his material as he could fit into the car, the trunk, and tied to the roof rail, and hit the road, and made that long, lonely drive for the end time. He spent most of the five hr in trench opinion, 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 surprise. He was soon to find out that he and Katy would not be living in the house alone.

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

"Welcome habitation,"she said, as she took him into her arms."Just in instance there are any neighbor watching, let's give them something to utter about."

She kissed him, jamming her tongue into his mouth. Wrapped in four arms, they shared one of the recollective, deepest kisses they'd ever had. When they finally ended the kiss, they were laughing.

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

They both turned toward Millie's house, three room access down on the corner, and waved. They knew she was probably peeking through one of her curtain, 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 somebody else to portion the theater with us."

"You did ?"he said, already wondering what form of diddly-shit bucket he'd stepped into.

"Yes. Do you like three-ways ?"

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

"Three-way. Trio. Threesome. make do a trois. Whatever you want to call it. You know. You and me and another girl. In bed together."

Dillon felt like he'd just driven five hours into the nightfall Zone.

"You're into that ?"

"Sure, why not. Don't worry, 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. come on, I'll introduce you."

In a daze he followed her to the guest sleeping accommodation at the far end of the lobby. 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 oculus 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, white German language Shepherd puppy !

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

"Ooh, I hope so."

"She's beautiful. What's her name ?"He rubbed her spike and stroked her back.

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

"lady ! What else ?"

Katy picked up a lowly gift-wrapped software program off of the bureau and handed it to him. He ripped it open. It was a pink and blue collar with an attached heart-shaped tag that had ‘ peeress'etched into it.

"Ah, you knew."

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

"What a gracious 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 share her sweetheart with the vicinity ? It'll help get the rumor James Mill cranked up."

"auditory sensation like a plan."

So they put Lady's apprehend around her neck opening and hooked up her ternion, and they took a at leisure stroll around the blocking. And when they got back to the sign of the zodiac, Dillon dragged Katy into the bedroom. They tore each others'wearing apparel off and they jumped into bed, along with Lady, and they had their very first manage a trois. Or threesome. Or trio. Or three-way, or whatever you want to prognosticate it. Katy and Dillon made loud, passionate love, but for the to the highest degree function, Lady just watched.

*****************************