Note : This is a work of fable, events and characters are a merchandise of author 's mental imagery. The only two grapheme who have sex are over 20 yr of age.

FOR C.J.

Early on Tues daybreak, Dillon's cell phone rang and woke him out of a dead sopor. It was too other to take a vociferation, 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 rectify creative thinker calls this betimes. Why didn't I turn this damn headphone off last night ?, he wondered. But he was peculiar and looked at the phone. The vociferation was coming from a issue 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 father would never promise him unless he suspected him of stealing his golf clubs.

"Good morning, dear,"his female parent said.

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

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

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

"C.J. died."

Dillon's substance sank. He and his female parent sat in telephone silence for a tenacious second. Finally, he asked,"When ?"

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

Another pass pause.

"poor people Katy,"he said, and exhaled as rent formed in his heart."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 word, but I knew you'd want to know."

"Yes, Mom, Thank You. And delight find out the funeral system 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 entirely thing to do. I have to."

-- --

Dillon grew up in a small, split-level sign in a suburban, middle-class locality. Just him, his sister Irene, who was two years jr., and his parents, Tanya and land mile. The schoolbook atomic family. His parents still lived there. Dillon now lived in a townsfolk three hundred miles from there. He had moved away several twelvemonth before under somewhat of a cloud. He thought it was the mightily affair to do at the sentence, considering the destiny he faced. He thought if he moved away, someplace where nonentity knew him, he could spend his solar day living his life instead of trying to outlast his past.

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

Lady was a take, beautiful white German Shepherd. Katy and Cliff had found the dog on the incline 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 habitation to heal. They ran ads for weeks, trying to feel Lady's proprietor. No reply. 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 have got thrown her soggy tennis balls a million times, and she happily ran them down and returned them to him, and softly dropped them at his animal foot.

Dillon became the next-door-neighbor-all-around helper to Katy and Cliff. He tended to Lady of course, but also took care of many early chores to arrive at a slight money. He helped in the thou, weeded their garden, cleaned the deck, shoveled their drive when it snowed, fed their fish when they were away, among early thing. Cliff traveled for his job, so oftentimes Katy was alone during the week and Dillon was a big assist.

When Katy became meaning, Dillon was nine years old and got a crash course on the chick 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 software program or groceries or whatever else she had, inside for her. She worked as a real estate agent, so she was always lugging a bag full of papers 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 regale him like a kid. She was actually worry in what he had to say.

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

"I don't tending,"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 little boy. He was named after his father. Clifford Junior. Katy called him C.J. from the start. But it did not turn out to be the happy, blessed event everyone was expecting.

Before long it became obvious that something was not decently with the little boy, and after umteen tests and referrals and medico and supplicant and fit of angst and Great Depression and optimism and hopelessness, they learned that their precious piffling boy had brawny muscular dystrophy. And it wasn't the run-of-the-mill, everyday muscular muscular dystrophy, which was bad enough, but it was the ugly, ruthless, evil, black sheep cousin-german of M.D., the one that guaranteed a short life. Duchenne syndrome, they called it. C.J. was a very cast little boy.

-- --

After the earpiece call from his female parent, Dillon went to work that day and went through the question for eight hours. He was a salesman for a society that sold lawn, garden and farm equipment, but he didn't sell anything that day. Not even close. His heart and mind were far away. About the only thing he accomplished was to coif to take a couple days off so he could go back home, or what was once his household, and attend the funeral.

He got back to his apartment that night, ate a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of soup for dinner, and did a load of laundry. He was glad his roommate wasn't around because he wasn't in the temper to chin wagging. He had just started to tamp a bag for the head trip when his mother called and told him the funeral plans. There would be showing on each of the next two dark, Wednesday and Thursday, and the funeral would be Friday morning. He decided he would work Wednesday, and private road there on Thursday for the viewing. If all went well he could pay heed the funeral on Fri, and have the weekend to shoot the breeze with his folk and maybe a friend or two.

-- --

The first few eld of C.J.'s life were a stabilize parade of Doctor of the Church's position, tests, grim newsworthiness and hopes for a miracle. It put a neat tune on Katy and drop-off of course, and their marriage began to suffer. Katy was a strong mom, but her sadness was a weight unit that became harder and knockout to mask. drop had a terrible time coping with having a terminally-ill child, as if his sperm were the campaign of it and somehow made him LE of a man. He appeared embarrassed and ashamed, and never bonded with his son. He traveled more than and to a greater extent, and wassail more and more, distancing himself, trying to minify the hurting and despair. As C.J. was growing up, his dad was not a great deal of a gene. 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 pack of cards, watching him. He'd always attain a decimal point to sit with C.J. for a while, and they would verbalize about affair. 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 role player and their bit and their stats and where they'd gone to college, and he asked hurt questions. He knew the histories of the sports, facts and events from way before his time, clobber of which Dillon had no clew. mother Nature had given C.J. a badly-damaged physical structure, but she had also given him a brilliant and curious mind.

By the time Dillon was a senior in high-pitched school day, he was a star on the baseball team. Katy would bring C.J. to all the home plate games and would park his wheelchair in the especial stain the team had reserved for him, where he'd base for his squad. The actor would occur over to him and say hi, and considered him the team mascot and their number one fan.

Over the days Dillon had spent hundreds and hundreds of hours doing task for Katy, and spending clip talking with her and C.J. As a solution, he came to substantiate two very significant matter.

One, C.J. was not just an unfortunate, disabled kid who happened to live next threshold. No, he was much to a greater extent than that. He was smart, he was witty, and despite everything he'd been through, he was a happy minor. He was a friend. A secretive friend. Like the picayune crony he'd never had.

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

He found himself admiring her pretty boldness, trim body, house bosom, and sozzled ass. And he always noticed her fingernails. They were always manicured and neatly polished, and regardless of what color she'd chosen for her other seven fingers and her two quarter round, her right pinkie was always the same : Bright, fluorescent fixture purpleness. It stood out like a lighthouse, and Dillon didn't know what it meant, but he liked it.

He didn't act on his desires, of grade. Why would a mid-thirties, semi-married woman with a sick shaver be interested in an eighteen class old boy ? He tried to put her out of his head. He went off to college and studied and got involved in a routine of activities. He partied and slept with diverse missy. But when he came home for holiday or summer holiday, he would always spend prison term next door with Katy and C.J.

When Dillon came home for the summer after his sophomore year of college, he was XX twelvemonth old. He went next threshold to visit, and learned that the doc had placed C.J. in a intervention deftness for a few Clarence Day for another barrage fire of mental test. That's when his affair with Katy began.

-- --

It was a five hour drive. Dillon didn't remember almost of it, which kind of scared him. He had no recollection of international nautical mile and miles of highway that had disappeared into his backside view mirror. His intellect was focused on what lay ahead. How was Katy holding up ? Would Cliff create a vista ? How would masses react when he showed up ? Would he be welcomed, or sneered at ? Would his parents be embarrassed, or would they indorse him ?

He'd timed things perfectly. The showing 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 field and picked up the small bottle of peg glossiness from the passenger seat. atomic number 10 purpleness. He shook it, uncapped it, and carefully applied it to the fingernail on his right pinky. He blew on it until it dried. Then he took a deep breath, straightened his tie, opened the threshold, got out, retrieved his sportsman pelage from the hook above the backseat window, and walked to the building.

-- --

Dillon got home on a Thursday afternoon in late May after completing his sophomore year of college. In a week or two he'd obtain his grades and officially be a next-to-last. He would be home for three months, and would pop 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 door. It hadn't been there earlier when he'd incur home, which was not strange, but Katy always made a point to accept C.J.'s dinner ready at the same time every night, and now it was well past that prison term. 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 late for a societal 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 door, he could tell right away that something was wrong. Her blond hair was bunched into a shekels ball atop her head, her blouse was wrinkled, her list cheek looked stressed along with her tired eyes.

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

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

When her tears subsided they went into the den. They sat on the lounge, side of meat by incline. Katy explained that C.J. had had an attack of some variety and couldn't breathe. She called 911. He was back in the hospital. More tests, more scans, Thomas More Doctor of the Church. She was a nervous crash and scared shitless. Dillon tried to calm her as best he could, tried to assure her. Cliff was not around, as usual.

He noticed he was holding her hand. He looked at her slender fingers, her brush up nails. All of her nails were painted nigrify, except one : Her right pinky was purplish. He'd always been curious about this wont of hers, this empurpled pinky. He'd noticed it many clip, and no subject whether the remainder of her nails were polished or not, her right little finger always was, and always stood out in lustrous purple.

"What's with the purple little finger ?"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 handwriting and pinky. She squeezed back.

"You know his favored football squad ?"she said.

"Of course. The Ravens."

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

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

Katy shook her headway."My misfortunate little boy,"she blurted, and burst into another deluge of tears.

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

"Thanks for coming over, Dillon. I'm sorry, I guess I needed person to peach to."

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

"You're always so well-to-do to talk to."

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

"I know."She hesitated, played with his finger's breadth."But I feel so alone. I can't remember the finis sentence I felt good. About anything."

They sat quietly for a bit. Words escaped him. He nestled his cheek into her whisker. It smelled proficient, like advanced melon. Then, by instinct, as if it were the most logical matter to do, he kissed the top of her head.

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

Rubbery, was his inaugural thought. Soft. Sensual. Not like most of the hard-lipped, forced college girl kisses he'd had. Really nice, felt natural. His lips lingered on hers for a second before he backed away. Her optic were wide, two unintimidated round pools, 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. Please forgive me."

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

Dillon tightened his clench on her shoulder, dug in, made sure she felt it. He pulled her to him and their amphetamine dead body touched, then melded. His paw went to her white meat and he thumbed her pissed nipple through the flimsy fabric of her blouse and bra. When he put his face to hers, Katy's lips parted immediately and her natural language slithered into his mouth. She slued around to face up him, pulled him close, front-on-front, their consistency flush now, giving her tongue deeper depth. Dillon sucked her tongue, which was swirling like a lizard in his mouth. He felt her tits firmly against his pectus, her weaponry around him, and her leg looped over his. The kiss went on, a duet of tongues, until saliva oozed between their lips and their jetty were on high alert.

When their rima oris finally separated, Katy peppered Dillon's side with snog raft, saying,"I need this. I want this."She pivoted her body, straddled his legs, sat on his lap, facing him. She felt his dick hard against her private parts. She kissed him again with open lips, her tongue on a violent disorder, two hungry rima oris screwing while she ground her mound onto his vain cock and pressed her stoked bosom against his breast. The osculation went on, their hands roamed on backs and butts, he was hard, she was wet.

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

She unsaddled him, rose up, took his hand and led him to the bedchamber. The bedroom where by this time, now being more or less separated from her hubby, she slept alone. Standing beside the queen bed, they kissed. She admired his handsome face, tolerant berm and slim, athletic body as she unbuttoned and unzipped him, top to penetrate. Dillon returned the favor.

Naked, their consistence plunged onto the bed. Katy's backtalk was ravening, attacking his, sucking his lingua into her mouth. Her nimble paw and finger's breadth squeezed his ass, surrounded his prick. Dillon followed along, but painting by numbers racket.

He suddenly realized that he was in way over his head. What to do ?, he wondered. This is a mature woman, not some silent college tolerant with no more experience than he. He wanted to please her, he had to. He decided to take ascendancy, pick up the stride. Pushing, attrition, overdoing.

"Hey,"Katy said warmly, running her fingers through his short, brown whisker."Take it well-situated. take aim your time. 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 manpower on either face of his head, she guided it downward until her cuckoo was in his face. She fingered her clit in front of his face.

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

Dillon dove in. He took her swollen fruit into his mouth, molded his lips around it, tasted it with diffused caresses, and she hissed when he slipped his tongue inside her. He planted his paw under the cheek of her ass and held tight, mashing face to twat. He explored her athirst, squirmy puss with his glossa, and savored her wet, salty relish. He kept at it, stayed down there, and wouldn't come up for air until he'd gotten what he was after.

Katy's body writhed with pleasure as he ate her. Her hands were firmly adhered to his question as she smushed her crotch into his face. She started grinding her puss into his face, 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 effusion on his face, was surprised by its intensity, like none he'd experienced before. Katy was surprised too ; even though it had been a piece, her torso shook with the office of it, and she had an climax like she'd not had in a farsighted, retentive time, if ever.

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

She pulled his principal up to hers and kissed him, tasted her cum in his mouthpiece. As they kissed, his body atop hers, she wrapped her hand around his rooster and fed it into her drippy bit. It slid into her with slick comfort, balls deep.

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

She wrapped her legs around his care tentacles and squeezed, tightening like a boa, as if to get every terminal drop of succus from a lemon. Dillon took the not-so-subtle hint. He clenched her buttocks in his bridge player and started drilling her.

He was slinging it pretty secure. 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 guesswork on a snare, smack taste smack big H, while the bed springs played hi-hat.

It went on, and on, their genital organ colliding on a quest for going, and they kissed as they fucked. Dillon was going to dump a incumbrance of his seed into this beautiful, matured woman, he knew that, but he slowed for a time, not wanting to bluster his top too soon. Her pleasance would come before his.

Two sweaty organic structure throbbing. Two lip and tongue plastered together. Two hands clenching two butt 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 redundant poke in his solidus. She moaned again, louder.

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

She came in another torrent, barely to a lesser extent than her starting time. She pinched his cock with her out-of-shape puss heftiness and dug her fingertips into his speed back. Dillon banged her harder for four or five thwacks and his pulsating ropes of cum vaulted into her.

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

"That was rattling,"she said.

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

"Oh, please…"

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

"Really ?"

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

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

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

*

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

It was only ten minutes later. His blazon were still around her, and hers were around him. Their middle were inch apart.

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

"I haven't eaten since early this morning, had a Danish and a burnt umber from the car at the hospital. Wasn't athirst all day, but I am now. How ‘ bout I fix us some tuna angle sandwiches ?"

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

"What's funny ?"Katy asked.

"Tuna fish."

"Tuna Pisces is curious ? Why ? Don't you like it ?"

"Yes, I like it. I've just always thought it was odd that we refer to tuna as tuna Fish. It's not like we could obnubilate tuna with anything early than a Pisces. Know what I mean ?"

"Um, I guess so."

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

"I really couldn't tell you Dillon,"she said."Maybe it's the like reason we don't say ‘ angle chops ’."

Dillon broke out laughing, then Katy did too. She reached down between his legs to rub his thigh and shit if his cock wasn't hard.

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

She went down on him and took his prick into her oral fissure. She slipped her halfway finger into his asshole and reamed him from behind as she sucked him. Within hour Dillon grunted and bucked and came in spurt into Katy's mouth and pharynx. When he was done, she wiped her mouth on the bed cover, got up and put on a robe.

"There. Now you rest a bit, big mind. Just lie back and chew over on the neat tuna fish conundrum while I make us a couple sandwiches."

After they ate their sandwiches and flake, they fucked again. Then it was getting late, and Katy suggested that Dillon leave so that no rumors got started, no subject how rightful they might be. He agreed that it was a dependable idea.

*

Their affair lasted most of the summer. They had to be discreet, of course, so once or twice a week Dillon would sneak over late at night, long after C.J. was at rest. They would make love as quietly as possible, and after they both came a couple times he would purloin back out.

No one suspected a thing until it all blew up one Sat night in early August. They were in the middle of a fervid soixante-neuf when a drunken Cliff showed up unheralded and caught them in the act. He went ballistic, screaming, throwing affair, breaking affair, calling them names, threatening them. He chased a scantily clad Dillon out of the house, screaming at him, told him to ‘ get the hell out before I kill you ’.

drop-off made indisputable the whole region and half the town knew all about it. Millie, the neck of the woods gossip had a field day. Katy and Dillon were shamed and ridiculed, she was a tramp steamer and he was a corneous college pecker who couldn't keep his shaft in his gasp. Dillon's parents were greatly embarrassed too, which didn't assistant him at house, and didn't help their human relationship with their neighbor.

C.J. was greatly upset by this turn of consequence. The menage turmoil was bad enough, but he would also be losing his outflank Friend. Because Dillon soon left and went back to shoal, five minute away, and stayed away, eventually graduating and taking a job that kept him there.

-- --

Standing on the traverse porch of the funeral plate, Dillon took another prospicient, deep breath before he opened the smoked glass door and entered. He walked tentatively through the anteroom and down the hall, passing various people he didn't recognize, until he found the aright way. He signed the guest Holy Scripture outside the room access, then entered.

He scanned the crowded room and didn't see any familiar faces at starting time, but soon sensed a cool vibe. The feeling of eyes 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 fish bowl. Then a male articulation to his left broke his concentration.

"What are you doing here, asshole ? I can't believe you had the orb to read your nerve around here."

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

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

"fountainhead, make it snappy, Lover 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 flowers, talking to an previous couple that looked vaguely familiar. He started walking toward her and the crowd of guests parted like the Red Sea before him. He stopped about eight metrical foot away from her.

It had been nearly four eld, but suddenly the meaning of the set phrase ‘ a sight for sore eyes'hit him like a lightning bolt. She still looked incredible. Tired, but strong and beautiful. She wore a long-sleeved black dress that hugged her slim figure. Her blond fuzz was whipped back in a French twist, and her earrings matched the coloring of her lazuline eyes.

He stood there, taking her in. Once she saw him, their eyes locked. The couple she was talking to point out it, looked at him, then back at her, and faded away. They held their regard for a farsighted, freeze out present moment, oblivious to the spectator pump in the elbow room. Dillon raised his right hand, with his purple-nailed pinky extended. Katy did the same with her right handwriting, the bright purple brilliantly contrasting the black polish on the eternal rest 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 blazonry. The versatile node watched their tightly-wrapped bodies as they hugged. Dillon felt the smoke of her chest against him, and whiffed the smell of fresh fruit in her hairsbreadth. Their trunk clenched and their binge 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 circuit board and letters meant so much to him."

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

They finally broke their embrace and Katy took his handwriting and led him over to the coffin. They looked down at C.J., whose side was picket with a slender suggestion of a smile. Dillon started crying softly when he saw how he was dressed. He was wearing his jersey from Dillon's in high spirits school day baseball game team.

"It seemed only right that he tire his baseball T-shirt,"Katy said."It was his favorite objet d'art of clothing. He treasured it."

Dillon put his arm around her again, pulled her close as his tears dripped down his cheeks. They stood there together until his rent abated. They stepped away, off into a box and continued their conversation. Katy handed him a tissue 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 favor ?"

"Sure. Anything."

"It's a big one."

"What is it ?"

"Would you speak at the service ?"

"Really ? Me ?"

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

"Are you sure ? Is your hubby going to be okay with that ?"

"Ex-husband,"she blurted."This is my display, don't worry about him. If he gives us any shit 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 unspoiled get back to your early Edgar Albert Guest,"he said, and gave her hand a firm squeeze."I'll see you tomorrow."

He walked across the room and out of the fishbowl with his forefront held high, and he felt the multitude of optic in the room covering him like shrink wrap.

-- --

Dillon stayed at his parents'house that Nox, although he didn't talk to them much, only for a few minutes. He told them he'd been asked to verbalise at the funeral service and he had to organize. So he went to the spare sleeping room with pen and paper and tried to pen something down, something meaningful, but nil of marrow would number. His mind was a jumble, adrift in his store of C.J. There were too many experiences and conversations to assimilate and unionize. He was bone-tired, from the long crusade, his alone grief, and his visit to the fish bowl. He fell off to catch some Z's without accomplishing much.

He slept like petrified wood. He woke up early, refreshed, and jotted down a leaning of bullet train peak on three-by-five cards. He didn't know if he'd speak for two minutes or 20. He trusted that his Muse would register up when the time was right.

Dillon walked into the funeral home XX minutes early and was surprised at the transformation the place had gone through in XVI hours. The paries that had separated the viewing rooms had disappeared and it was three or four multiplication the sizing of the fishbowl he'd visited the nighttime before. It was now one big way, like an auditorium, lined with rows and rows of folding chairs on two face separated by a center on aisle, quick to lodge a bombastic sidetrack. The crowd was trickling in. A dead fry was quite a draw.

Katy's elderly babe, Sonia, was on the watch for Dillon. She spotted him, grabbed his arm, and escorted him up to the 2nd row, far left. She handed him a memorial cusp that had been printed up for the service.

"Sit here,"she said,"And give thanks you for doing this. It means so a great deal to Katy. And to me too, to all of us. The minister of religion will speak and then he'll announce when it's your twist. You're right after him. undecomposed luck !"

Oh, expectant, he thought to himself. I follow the sermoniser. Lucky me.

Once the space was full and SRO, Katy was ushered down the aisle to the movement row on the odd face, and the show got on the road, right on time. Cliff was seated on the right-hand side, following to a Danton True Young woman.

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

He could almost feel the inhaled breaths of the hushed attendants on his goose-fleshed blazon as he strode to the soapbox. Once there, he looked out at the take theater, impressed by the size of it. Every seat was taken and others stood around the sides and back of the way. His hands sifted through the pockets of his jacket, shirt and trouser for his cue poster, but they were not to be found. He'd left them in his car, where he'd live on practise. He would suffer to wing it.

He cleared his throat, adjusted the microphone, raised it up. Took a late breath. Nervous action. 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 heavy 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. 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 family. We could tell right away that they were big citizenry and would be smashing neighbour, and my family quickly accepted them into the neck of the woods and into our lifespan. They both worked full-time and drop-off traveled a lot, so I would do odd chore for them. I'd wash their cars, cut their Grass and weed their garden in the summertime, shovel their driveway when it snowed, take care of their dog and feed their fish when they were away, anything to gain a few dollars.

"After C.J. was born, and it became brighten that he was not a normal, healthy child, but instead had an ugly, nasty disease, near of their metre was devoted to his special needs, his Doctor appointments, his medical examination psychometric test, his treatments, et cetera. Gradually, I was asked to do more and more chores around their business firm and property because they just didn't have the clock time. I mended fencing, washed windows, cleaned out rain gutter, raked leaves, stained the deck, you name it.

"As C.J. got older, he would sit outside in his wheelchair, on the social movement porch or on the deck out in the back yard, and he'd watch me work. And we would talk. We talked a lot. And by the clip I was in my teens and C.J. was six years old, I realized that Mother Nature may give given him an unhealthy body, but at the same clip she had given him a brilliant Loretta Young mind.

"We talked about many things, especially sports. baseball game and football game were his favorites. The Baltimore raven were his deary team, The Purple pain in the ass. That's the grounds for the purple nail polish."

He raised his right pinkie for all to see.

"Even at that young age, he could read at a pretty high floor and he impressed me with his intelligence. His wit, his vocabulary, his knowledge. He knew every player, knew their numbers and their stats and their heights and free weight and where they went to college. He would amaze 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 attitude was always convinced. I can't commemorate him ever feeling sorry for himself. But I do call up thinking, how can this little guy, whose body was so weak, be so strong ? I began to agnize that C.J. was not just the kid future door, not just some Loretta Young friend. He was the niggling sidekick 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 saltation and play nut with former Thomas Kyd, and have to use a wheelchair ? He looked down for a moment, then up at me. And with traces of tears in his middle, he said, ‘ No, I don't get mad. But I get sad sometimes. Sad because it is so firmly on my parents. I hate being such a essence 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 highschool school and he followed my teams like he did the pros, and we talked about every biz. In the spring of my senior year, as my baseball squad was in training for the upcoming time of year, C.J., who was nine or ten days old by this time, told me he was going to come to all the domicile game and etymon 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 days before our first game. I asked him if I could buy an excess squad 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 untried life, and how a great deal he liked our team, and I'd like to give him a hat. Coach said, Inferno, Dillon, you don't need to pay for it, and he not only gave me a hat, but gave me a unit team uniform, the small one he had. When I gave it to C.J., he grinned from ear-to-ear. He put the cap on his head and held that uniform in his workforce, and fondled the alphabetic character on the chest of the NJ, he treasured it. And that time of year, Katy made sure he made it to every dwelling house game. Coach cleared a special box adjacent to our dugout canoe and the stands, just for him, and to adapt his wheelchair, and you could see the joy on his brass when the players and coach-and-four would come over to shake his hand and say Hi to him. He came to every habitation game that season, dressed in his uniform and cap, to root us on. He is wearing that very same New Jersey today.

"There was one game late in the season, a low-scoring pitcherful'duel. I pitched a two-hitter and hit a solo home run to win the game one-to-nothing. After the game and a meek solemnisation, I went over to his box. Katy and C.J. both had big grins on their faces, happy as I'd ever seen them. And do you have intercourse what C.J. secern me ? He said he was proud of me ! Can you consider that ? He was proud of me !

"Well, I felt the emotion rise up in me like a swank flood. All I did was win a ballgame. But I thought of all he had been through in his Brigham Young sprightliness, and of all the long suit and perseverance he had to have every single day, just to get through it all. I was on the scepter of split. I told him thank you, and that I was proud of him too. But I don't know if he knew how truly gallant of him I was, or how much I respected him, and loved him. I hope he knows that, and knows how much I've missed him.

"We all face mound and valleys in our living. Good times, bad metre, glad multiplication, sad times. Ups and downs. And whenever I reach a low peak, a clock time when I feel bad, or overwhelmed, and want to quit or give up or feel no-good for myself, I think of C.J. And it makes me feel better, it makes me palpate stronger, and suddenly things don't seem so bad. I feel like that's a gift 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 Quaker, my trivial brother. This earthly concern could use a few more citizenry like C.J."

You could have heard a pin drop cloth as Dillon left the stump with all eyes upon him. He was choked up, full of emotion, the bout 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 bottom, relieved and drained.

Dillon sat through the residue of the Service, which was a fuzz of Word, medicine, and a prayer. Afterwards, he stood outside the funeral plate, chatting with his parents and his sister Irene. In a matter of minutes, three dissimilar multitude came up to him and congratulated him on his eulogium. One said it was the best he'd ever heard.

Dillon and his family went to Katy's sign of the zodiac afterwards for some food and socialization and condolences, but they didn't stay too long. But they were there long enough for cliff to fare up to Dillon and actually rationalize, and to congratulate and thank him for his eulogy. As they were about to leave, Katy pulled him aside and asked him to fall back later, after the other invitee were gone. He said he would.

Sonia, who planned to stay with Katy for a partner off twenty-four hours 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 missy,"Katy said."Please. It's been four years."

"So what, I can take you like a book. Trust me, you will. It's all over your grimace, 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 early, like you'd never let go. And he loves you too, otherwise he wouldn't be here. So go for it. He may be Whitney Moore Young Jr., but he's a cutie."

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

-- --

It took a few hour before all of the client had finally left Katy's business firm. Dillon figured Katy could use a petty polish time, so he waited another minute before he went over. It was betimes evening when he knocked on her door. ‘ C'mon in ’, he heard Katy call from inside.

They were in the living elbow room, to the left of the antechamber. Sonia was seated in an promiscuous hot seat facing Katy, who was on the sofa. Mellow wind was playing softly. Katy patted the lounge cushion to her left, and Dillon took a arse side by side to her.

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

For the next hour they sipped lemonade and talked about the day : The service, the preacher, the guests. Katy was glad 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 have to deal with cliff again.

When the mound was empty, Sonia excused herself."fountainhead, I'm going to plough in,"she said, as she stood up."It's been a crazy few Day. Goodnight Sis. Goodnight Dillon, and thank you again for your eulogy. Everyone agreed it was wondrous. C.J. would cause 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 hand in hers, the low gear time they'd touched since he'd arrived."It was so literal, and so pinnace. Everyone was in tears."

"I was so nervous,"he said."I forgot my notes. I left them in the car."

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

Nothing was said for a while. They just sat here, their bodies flush, their men clasped, listening to voiced medicine, cherishing the dim-witted pleasure of being together after so long. Katy nestled against him, Dillon rested his cheek against her hair and breathed in her scrumptious, long-lost scent.

"This is skillful,"Katy said, after some time. Then she raised her head, turned to look at him, and after a momentary intermission, kissed him.

Their lips parted and their thirsty lip went into overdrive, the once-familiar knife becoming reacquainted. In a trice, their trunk turned and meshed and their arms locked around each early. Dillon felt her tits against his chest and pushed his hardening dick against her, and as if they were in a sentence motorcar, they instantly picked up where they'd left off long ago.

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

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

"Stay with me tonight,"she said.

"Are you sure ?"He kissed her neck.

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

"What about your sister ?"He sucked on her teat through the cotton wool framework of her blouse.

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

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

"Good."

Katy put her face right 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 sleeping accommodation, shutting the doorway behind them. They tore their clothes off as they french-kissed, each savoring the taste perception of the other.

"Make love 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 perfumed spots. She moaned with his touch and her consistence was soon writhing and wouldn't stop. He kissed her quivering thigh. He traced his tongue along the inside of her moistened lower lips, before plunging it inside her. Katy squeaked with pleasance, and Dillon drunk in the smell and taste of her, like a sip of assuredness sweetwater after four years in the desert.

He sucked her clit into his backtalk, and just like the old days, Katy fell into the sway and fucked his face with a speech rhythm matching his. It was as if no prison term had passed.

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

"Ugh,"Katy groaned. She had her thumbs in his auricle and her finger webbed around the back of his heading as he ate her.

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

It didn't take long for her to make out the first clip. It had been a recollective while since she'd had sex and her loins were trigger happy. And Dillon knew how to campaign 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 gens when her dike broke. He felt the wet, warm thrill of her saved-up cum surround his natural language and rinse his face, and he tasted her juicy blue funk again, finally. He never thought this would befall again, but here they were. A idea flowed through his mind briefly as he lapped up her juice. He thought how he could never, ever get more internal with a adult female than he was at that moment : Her clit in his mouth, his finger's breadth up her ass, her cum on his facial expression. But it was a momentary thought. His dick was swollen and heavy and achy. It was clock time to fuck.

Katy was reading his psyche. When he put his slimy face up to hers, their mouth had barely touched when he felt her sturdy handgrip around his shaft. She fed it right into her slippery cut and started humping. No recovery time for this gal. She wanted it again.

No job. Dillon was ready to wear. But he didn't want to race things. He wanted to make it last, wee-wee it beautiful. He kissed her, slid his hands back under her ass. He lingered, took his prison term, kissing her with his dick inside her and his fingers once again feeling their elbow room around her cover girl butt. He wanted to fuck her slowly. They fell into a gentle, loving rhythm.

"You like this ?"

"I love this."

spinal column and forth, up and down, in and out, taking their time, kissing, smiling, only gradually picking up fastness. Dillon knew he would have to issue forth soon, so he picked up his tempo and started banging her harder, then harder, and Katy was okay with that. Her legs were wrapped around his, constricting, as she slung her soundbox at him over and over as his turncock 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, leave it to me. collapse it to me."

His body shook with each hammered spurt. When his nuts were drained, his physical structure, still wavering, was zapped and telling him to stay, but he did not. He wanted Katy to come again and he knew how to attain that materialize. So he jammed his finger up her ass and started pumping his drained dong into her as hard as he could without throwing his book binding out.

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

Her orgasm was another twisty 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 tire consistence slept.

*

Sonia enjoyed the show, although it was strictly auditory through the thin rampart. It was like an X-rated radio computer programme. She'd never listened to her minuscule Sister fuck before, but it was quite the turn-on. She imagined Katy in the next elbow room, with her youth lover on top of her, pounding her, making her scream like that. But she felt a calm come over her. She now knew her sister would be alright, because she was already healing, getting the shite fucked out of her by the man she had not yet admitted that she was in love with. With the titillating auditory sensation and mind-vision of her 39 twelvemonth old baby in the next room getting laid by her two dozen year old lover, she masturbated, then quickly fell asleep.

In the midsection of the Nox, Dillon woke up and walked into the bath adjacent to the headmaster sleeping accommodation. He closed the door and turned on the light. His mouth was dry, and tasted funky. He found some mouthwash under the cesspit and took a draft, squished it around and patter it into the sinkhole. He turned on the faucet, ran the weewee onto his manpower and scooped a drink from his ribbon. He splashed his boldness and dried it. He raised the crapper seat and took a leakage, then lowered the tail. He flushed, hoping he wouldn't wake Katy.

But Katy was awake. She'd stirred when he got out of bed, watched his sexy physique as he walked to the bathroom, watched the door close and the get down come on. She heard the water 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 sebaceous stuff all over her hired man, and fingered herself.

The bathroom 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 night and they kissed. Katy pivoted her eubstance and went down on him, and sucked him for a moment until his prick reached its uttermost insensibility, length 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.

"nooky me,"she whispered.

He pushed his hammer into her. It was nasty, but he slid in with a sweetness 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 legs and stroked her clit, which was already swollen with expected value. As Dillon began fucking her, she pulled her trigger harder and harder, wanting to touch his apparent motion and come big when he did.

Dillon broke a light-colored stew as he propelled his dick in and out of her. It had been four tenacious years since he'd buttfucked her, but he was now in a state of rapture. As his clay, slippery turncock sledded in and out of her, and he felt the firm, hot pressure of her staring ass around it, he felt like he was finally home.

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

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

"break it to me !"she wheezed, brusk of breath.

Dillon gave it to her. His body shook with each of his spasms as he fired his onus thick inside her, but he stayed in blank space 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 galvanizing basso, reaching for her flood tide. Dillon was about to put his lip down there and do his affair, when Katy howled like a wounded wolf and her trunk shivered and she came in the night. They quickly fell asleep.

The sun was up when they woke later that dawn. They said proficient 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 up him and they were kissing, and both were aroused, and they screwed again. But it was a stark dividing line to their raunchy, middle-of-the-night assfuck. They made slow, precious love, taking the time to evidence their attentions to every nook and cranny and cleavage and orifice of their bodies. Afterward, they held each other in silence. No word were necessary.

But Dillon was thinking. He was thinking about how it was Sat first light and he would ingest one Sir Thomas More day with Katy before he left to drive back to his flat and his job. He was thinking that he didn't go habitation final stage Nox and his family would know why. He was thinking about Millie, and how the chin-wag mill was probably already turning. Katy was the first one to address, breaking the secretiveness and interrupting his thoughts, but practically reading his mind.

"Move in with me,"she said.

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

"I said, motion in with me."

"motility in with you ? What, here ?"

"Of course of action, here. Where else ?"

"Really ?"

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

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

"So ? Quit. You can retrieve a job here, if the company can't relocate you. Or in effect yet, get a real estate licence, we'll work together. I do pretty well, I'm sure you would too. We'd make a hell of a team, don't you think ?"

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

"So, what's the problem ?"

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

"Yes, I'm sure, Dillon. It's not an offer I'd make to just anyone, and not without heedful 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 have a go at it 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 days for you. You make me feel well, 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 adopt a shower."

Dillon watched her shapely, naked ass disappear into the lavatory, leaving the doorway open. He heard her bend on the shower. He laughed quietly to himself. Something that he'd thought about for twelvemonth, something that he thought could never happen, was happening. He got off the bed and walked into the lav. He slid the shower door aside and stepped in beside her. Katy's knocker were covered with soap.

"Katy, thank you for telling me how you feel. Because I love you too. I've loved you for yr. 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 piss pounded them.

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

"It was something my sister said. She said that it was so obvious that we were in lovemaking. The way we looked at each other, the way we hugged, the way we interacted. I knew she was rightfulness 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 dead body, and before you could say ‘ I'm hard again ’, Dillon was hard again. Less than a one-half hour after they'd made love in bed, they made lovemaking again in the shower bath. With their mouths plastered together, and his men cupped under her keister, and her legs wrapped around his shank, and his dick cryptical inside her, and her binding against the tile paries, they fucked for the initiative time as committed lovers, and they came in an ring unison of orgasms just as the piddle pouring down upon them ran cold.

-- --

It was late morning by the time Katy and Dillon made their way to the kitchen in hunt of nutrient. There was a notation from Sonia on the kitchen board. She was gone. The gist of the bank bill was that by the sounds she'd heard coming out of Katy's sleeping room, she knew that Katy would be fine without her suspension 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 great deal 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 waiting until he got back to secern them that he was going to be their raw future door neighbor.

He left at four a.m. on Monday so he would get to the office on metre. He had a busy day planned. In addition to several appointments, he had to type up his letter of resignation and hand his two-week observation. His supervisor was surprise when he told him he was leaving, but couldn't whirl to relocate him. That was fine with Dillon ; Katy had said she would feel out when and where the real number estate courses were being given so he could hit the ground running when he got back.

He called his mother after the first hebdomad 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 flat. His roommate's girlfriend had been staying over a lot anyway, and now she could just incite in and take his piazza. It worked out for the easily for all of them.

-- --

Early on Saturday morning, the day after his last day at work, Dillon packed his car with as very much of his stuff as he could fit into the car, the trunk, and tied to the cap rail, and hit the road, and made that long, lonely drive for the final time. He spent about of the five hours in deeply opinion, thinking about Katy, and all the nasty things they were going to do when he got there. It was mid-afternoon by the metre he got to Katy's house, and he didn't know it, but he was in for a big surprisal. He was soon to find out that he and Katy would not be living in the theatre alone.

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

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

She kissed him, jamming her tongue into his oral fissure. Wrapped in four arms, they shared one of the longest, cryptic 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 doors down on the corner, and waved. They knew she was probably peeking through one of her curtains, watching.

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

"Now, Dillon,"Katy said,"I don't want you to get mad. I know I didn't discus this with you, but I invited someone else to part the house with us."

"You did ?"he said, already wondering what kind of dirt bucket he'd stepped into.

"Yes. Do you like three-ways ?"

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

"Three-way. triple. ternary. Manage 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 Twilight geographical zone.

"You're into that ?"

"Sure, why not. Don't trouble, 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 swell in bed. cum on, I'll introduce you."

In a daze he followed her to the Guest sleeping accommodation at the far end of the hall. Katy opened the room access and went into the way, Dillon was correct behind. Then he saw her.

She was lying on the bed, on top of a welter 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, white German Shepherd pup !

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

"Ooh, I hope so."

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

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

"peeress ! What else ?"

Katy picked up a lowly gift-wrapped package off of the toilet table and handed it to him. He ripped it open. It was a pinko and blue collar with an attached heart-shaped tag that had ‘ Lady'etched into it.

"Ah, you knew."

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

"What a prissy surprisal,"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 parcel her beauty with the vicinity ? It'll help get the rumour Mill cranked up."

"Sounds like a plan."

So they put Lady's collar around her neck and hooked up her leash, and they took a leisurely stroll around the cube. And when they got back to the theatre, Dillon dragged Katy into the bedroom. They tore each others'clothes off and they jumped into bed, along with Lady, and they had their very first manage a trois. Or tierce. Or trio. Or three-way, or whatever you want to call it. Katy and Dillon made meretricious, passionate lovemaking, but for the almost part, ma'am just watched.

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