preeminence : This is a work of fiction, events and characters are a ware of author 's imagination. The solely two reference who have sex are over 20 age of age.

FOR C.J.

Early on Tuesday morning, Dillon's cell speech sound rang and woke him out of a suddenly eternal sleep. It was too too soon to hold a call, and way too early for the rude awakening his ringtone was blaring from the nightstand next to his bed : The presentation of Won't Get Fooled Again by The Who. No one in their right mind calls this early. Why didn't I turn this damn sound off conclusion nighttime ?, he wondered. But he was curious and looked at the phone. The call was coming from a number 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 scream him unless he suspected him of stealing his golf clubs.

"Good dawn, dearest,"his female parent said.

"Kind of other, 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 heart sank. He and his female parent sat in telephone silence for a long here and now. Finally, he asked,"When ?"

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

Another extended suspension.

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

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

"Poor Katy,"he repeated.

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

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

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

"I'm coming back for it."

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

"It's the lone matter to do. I have to."

-- --

Dillon grew up in a meek, split-level home in a suburban, middle-class neighborhood. Just him, his sister Irene, who was two twelvemonth younger, and his parents, Tanya and Miles. The schoolbook nuclear family. His parents still lived there. Dillon now lived in a town three hundred miles from there. He had moved away several years before under somewhat of a cloud. He thought it was the aright thing to do at the meter, considering the circumstances he faced. He thought if he moved away, someplace where nobody knew him, he could expend his days living his life instead of trying to survive his past.

When Dillon was a boy, a young match moved in next door to them. The new neighbour, Katy and drop, were young marrieds in their twenty, and despite the fact that they were nine or ten geezerhood younger than his parents, they all soon became adept neighbors and booster. And Dillon liked his new neighbors almost instantly. Because of Lady.

Lady was a spectacular, beautiful 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 hebdomad, trying to find Lady's owner. No reaction. They were okay with that. By then, they loved Lady, and noblewoman 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 thrown her inert lawn tennis balls a million times, and she happily ran them down and returned them to him, and softly dropped them at his substructure.

Dillon became the next-door-neighbor-all-around helper to Katy and drop-off. He tended to Lady of course of instruction, but also took charge of many former job to make a little money. He helped in the yard, weeded their garden, cleaned the pack of cards, shoveled their driveway when it snowed, fed their fish when they were away, among other thing. drop traveled for his job, so oftentimes Katy was alone during the week and Dillon was a big help.

When Katy became significant, Dillon was nine years old and got a dash course on the razz 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 private road, he'd run over and acquit her software program or groceries or whatever else she had, inside for her. She worked as a real number estate federal agent, so she was always lugging a bag wax 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 public lecture down to him, or treat him like a child. She was actually interested in what he had to say.

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

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

They bonded over those 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 right with the little boy, and after umpteen tests and referrals and doctors and supplication and fits of angst and depression and optimism and hopelessness, they learned that their valued niggling boy had powerful dystrophy. And it wasn't the run-of-the-mill, everyday muscular dystrophy, which was bad enough, but it was the ugly, ruthless, iniquity, black sheep cousin of M.D., the one that guaranteed a short living. Duchenne syndrome, they called it. C.J. was a very sick piffling boy.

-- --

After the earphone telephone call from his mother, Dillon went to lick that day and went through the motion for eight hours. He was a salesman for a fellowship 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 matter he accomplished was to arrange to fill a mate days off so he could go back dwelling, or what was once his home, and attend the funeral.

He got back to his apartment that Nox, ate a broiled Malva sylvestris sandwich and a bowl of soup for dinner, and did a payload of laundry. He was happy his roommate wasn't around because he wasn't in the mood to chin wagging. He had just started to pack a bag for the trip when his mother called and told him the funeral plans. There would be wake on each of the next two Night, Wednesday and Thursday, and the funeral would be Friday sunrise. He decided he would go Wednesday, and drive there on Thursday for the viewing. If all went well he could attend to the funeral on Friday, and have the weekend to visit with his folks and maybe a Quaker or two.

-- --

The first few years of C.J.'s life were a sweetie parade of doctor's position, tests, dour news and hopes for a miracle. It put a gravid mental strain on Katy and Cliff of trend, and their marriage began to tolerate. Katy was a strong mom, but her lugubriousness was a weightiness that became harder and harder to disguise. Cliff had a terrible time coping with having a terminally-ill child, as if his sperm were the cause of it and somehow made him less of a man. He appeared block and ashamed, and never bonded with his son. He traveled more and more, and drank Thomas More and more, distancing himself, trying to fall the painful sensation and desperation. As C.J. was growing up, his dad was not much of a broker. His parents eventually separated, got back together, separated again. backwash, rinsing, Repeat.

Dillon continued doing the task Katy asked him to do, often with C.J. sitting in his wheelchair on the dorsum deck, watching him. He'd always wee-wee a dot to sit with C.J. for a while, and they would spill the beans about things. A lot of thing. Especially sports.

Dillon was amazed with C.J.'s cognition of mutation, especially baseball and football. Although he'd never play the games, even at the age of six or seven C.J. knew the rules and all the players and their numbers and their stats and where they'd gone to college, and he asked smart dubiousness. He knew the story of the sports, facts and upshot from way before his metre, stuff of which Dillon had no clue. Mother Nature had given C.J. a badly-damaged consistence, but she had also given him a brilliant and curious mind.

By the time Dillon was a senior in high schooltime, he was a star on the baseball squad. Katy would make for C.J. to all the home games and would park his wheelchair in the special spot the team had reserved for him, where he'd tooth root for his team. The players would come up over to him and say hi, and considered him the squad mascot and their numeral one fan.

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

One, C.J. was not just an unfortunate person, disenable kid who happened to inhabit future door. No, he was much more than than that. He was smart, he was witty, and despite everything he'd been through, he was a glad child. He was a friend. A faithful friend. Like the little comrade he'd never had.

And two, he no longer just viewed Katy as the vex mom next door who didn't talk down to him and paid him to do problem that needed to be done around the house. He saw her differently now. She was a ally, yes, but she was a woman. A unassailable, attractive woman. Some devoid flirting happened from clock time to metre. So what if she's fifteen years older, he thought. No scathe done.

He found himself admiring her pretty side, clean-cut physical structure, firm breasts, and tight ass. And he always noticed her fingernails. They were always manicured and neatly polished, and regardless of what color she'd chosen for her other seven fingers and her two ovolo, her right little finger was always the same : Bright, fluorescent purple. It stood out like a beacon fire, and Dillon didn't know what it meant, but he liked it.

He didn't act on his desires, of track. Why would a thirty-something, semi-married woman with a sick child be worry in an eighteen year old boy ? He tried to put her out of his mind. He went off to college and studied and got involved in a number of activities. He partied and slept with assorted young woman. But when he came family for vacation or summertime vacations, he would always spend time adjacent door with Katy and C.J.

When Dillon came rest home for the summer after his sophomore year of college, he was twenty dollar bill years old. He went side by side door to visit, and learned that the doctor had placed C.J. in a discourse facility for a few days for another battery of tests. That's when his affair with Katy began.

-- --

It was a five hr drive. Dillon didn't commend well-nigh of it, which kind of scared him. He had no recollection of air mile and stat mi of highway that had disappeared into his rear view mirror. His mind was focused on what lay ahead. How was Katy holding up ? Would Cliff make a tantrum ? How would people oppose when he showed up ? Would he be welcomed, or sneered at ? Would his parents be embarrassed, or would they support him ?

He'd timed things perfectly. The viewing was scheduled for six- until eight p.m., and he pulled into the funeral home parking lot at 6:30. He drove to the uttermost end and parked his car. He sat, rested, waited. He reached to his right and picked up the small bottle of nail finish from the rider behind. neon purpleness. He shook it, uncapped it, and carefully applied it to the fingernail on his right pinkie. He blew on it until it dried. Then he took a deeply breath, straightened his tie, opened the door, got out, retrieved his sport coating from the hook shot above the backseat window, and walked to the building.

-- --

Dillon got home on a Thursday afternoon in previous May after completing his sophomore year of college. In a hebdomad or two he'd welcome his tier and officially be a Jnr. He would be home for three calendar month, and would start his summer job in a few twenty-four hours. After dinner with his parents, he noticed that Katy's car still was not parked in her drive next door. It hadn't been there earlier when he'd gotten home, which was not unusual, but Katy always made a tip to give birth C.J.'s dinner ready at the same clip 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 driveway. It was getting a bit latterly for a sociable call, but when he saw the weak go on in the den, he figured what the Scheol, he'd go over and say hi.

When Katy opened the doorway, he could tell right away that something was legal injury. Her blonde hair's-breadth was bunched into a scratch ball atop her caput, her blouse was wrinkled, her be given boldness looked stressed along with her exhaust eyes.

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

She burst into teardrop. 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 body hard against his. She hugged him back, put her question against his shoulder joint, and cried harder. He let her cry.

When her bust subsided they went into the den. They sat on the lounge, position by side. Katy explained that C.J. had had an flack of some sort and couldn't breathe. She called 911. He was back in the hospital. More tryout, more scan, more doc. She was a nervous wreck and scared shitless. Dillon tried to calm her as best he could, tried to see to it her. Cliff was not around, as usual.

He noticed he was holding her mitt. He looked at her slender fingerbreadth, her polished nails. All of her nails were painted black, except one : Her right field pinky was purpleness. He'd always been curious about this riding habit of hers, this over-embellished pinkie. He'd noticed it many time, and no topic whether the rest of her nails were polished or not, her right pinky always was, and always stood out in promising purple.

"What's with the purpleness pinky ?"he asked, wrapping his finger's breadth 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 little finger. She squeezed back.

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

"Of form. The Ravens."

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

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

Katy shook her head."My poor little boy,"she blurted, and burst into another overflow of tears.

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

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

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

"You're always so easy to talk 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 survive time I felt good. About anything."

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

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

Rubbery, was his first thought. Soft. Sensual. Not like almost of the hard-lipped, forced college girl kisses he'd had. Really overnice, felt cancel. His back talk lingered on hers for a moment before he backed away. Her center were all-inclusive, two unshrinking 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. delight forgive me."

"Don't be no-account, it's okay,"she replied, and gently pulled his deal toward her."I like it. It felt good. I want to feel good."Her fingers laced deeper into his. She took a deep hint and said,"Do it again."

Dillon tightened his suitcase on her articulatio humeri, 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 stiff nipple through the fragile fabrics of her blouse and bra. When he put his aspect to hers, Katy's lips parted immediately and her tongue slithered into his sass. She slued around to present him, pulled him close, front-on-front, their bodies flush now, giving her tongue deeper depth. Dillon sucked her glossa, which was swirling like a lounge lizard in his oral fissure. He felt her tits firmly against his chest, her arms around him, and her leg looped over his. The kiss went on, a twain of tongues, until spit oozed between their mouth and their inguen were on high school alert.

When their mouthpiece finally separated, Katy peppered Dillon's face with snog pecks, saying,"I need this. I want this."She pivoted her trunk, straddled his leg, sat on his lap, facing him. She felt his dick hard against her genitalia. She kissed him again with open sass, her tongue on a rampage, two hungry sass screwing while she ground her mound onto his swell cock and pressed her stoked knocker against his dresser. The kiss went on, their hired hand roamed on backs and butts, he was hard, she was wet.

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

She unsaddled him, rose up, took his hired man and led him to the bedroom. The bedroom where by this clip, now being more or less separated from her husband, she slept alone. Standing beside the queen bed, they kissed. She admired his handsome face, all-inclusive articulatio humeri and slim, acrobatic trunk as she unbuttoned and unzipped him, top to bottom. Dillon returned the favor.

Naked, their physical structure plunged onto the bed. Katy's oral fissure was wolfish, attacking his, sucking his spit into her mouth. Her spry workforce and fingers squeezed his ass, surrounded his cock. Dillon followed along, but painting by numbers.

He suddenly realized that he was in way over his head. What to do ?, he wondered. This is a mature woman, not some speechless college broad with no to a greater extent experience than he. He wanted to please her, he had to. He decided to take control, nibble up the stride. Pushing, detrition, overdoing.

"Hey,"Katy said warmly, running her digit through his shortsighted, brownish hair's-breadth."Take it easy. Take your metre. We have all night."

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

She did. She kissed him, held it for a bit, her supple lips hypnotizing him. With her handwriting on either slope of his point, she guided it downward until her twat was in his face. She fingered her clit in front of his face.

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

Dillon dove in. He took her swollen fruit into his backtalk, molded his brim around it, tasted it with soft caresses, and she hissed when he slipped his tongue inside her. He planted his hands under the cheeks of her ass and held tight, mashing face to twat. He explored her thirsty, squirmy slit with his knife, and savored her wet, salty nip. 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 helping hand were firmly adhered to his head teacher as she smushed her private parts into his face. She started grinding her snatch 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 outburst on his expression, was surprised by its intensity, like none he'd experienced before. Katy was surprised too ; even though it had been a while, her body 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 organic structure stopped quivering.

She pulled his school principal up to hers and kissed him, tasted her cum in his rima oris. As they kissed, his body atop hers, she wrapped her hand around his cock and fed it into her schmalzy snatch. It slid into her with slick ease, balls deep.

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

She wrapped her wooden leg around his like tentacles and squeezed, tightening like a boa, as if to get every net driblet of juice from a lemon. Dillon took the not-so-subtle hint. He clenched her buttocks in his handwriting and started drilling her.

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

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

Two sweaty bodies throbbing. Two mouths and tongues plastered together. Two mitt clenching two butt brass, four pegleg tightly entwined. One thrusting cock-filled cunt.

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

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

She came in another inundation, barely less than her first. She pinched his putz with her out-of-shape cunt brawn and dug her fingertips into his speed back. Dillon banged her harder for four or five thwacks and his pulsating forget me drug of cum vaulted into her.

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

"That was wonderful,"she said.

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

"Oh, please…"

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

"Really ?"

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

Katy paused, looked deep into his centre, sighed, kissed his olfactory organ and said :"That's for sure."

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

*

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

It was only ten minutes later. His arms were still around her, and hers were around him. Their eyes were inches 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 coffee from the simple machine at the hospital. Wasn't athirst all day, but I am now. How ‘ bout I fix us some tuna Pisces sandwiches ?"

"Sure. That sounds in effect,"he said, chuckling.

"What's funny ?"Katy asked.

"tunny fish."

"Anguilla sucklandii fish is odd ? Why ? Don't you like it ?"

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

"Um, I guess so."

"I mean, we say Pomatomus saltatrix or John Rock fish because those speech have different meanings. But there's no other meaning for tuna, so why add the fish to it ? We don't say ‘ flounder fish'or ‘ Melanogrammus aeglefinus angle'or ‘ trout fish ’. We don't say ‘ hamburger cow ’, or ‘ pork chop shot pig ’. So why do we say tuna fish fish ?"

"I really couldn't Tell you Dillon,"she said."Maybe it's the same intellect we don't say ‘ fish chops ’."

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

"Such a thick creative thinker you are,"she said, taking his cock in her hand."A rich thinker with another big erection."

She went down on him and took his cock into her mouth. She slipped her mediate fingerbreadth into his asshole and reamed him from behind as she sucked him. Within minutes Dillon grunted and bucked and came in jet into Katy's mouth and throat. When he was done, she wiped her mouth on the bedspread, got up and put on a robe.

"There. Now you rest a bit, big mind. Just lie back and ruminate on the great Anguilla sucklandii fish riddle while I make us a duo sandwiches."

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

*

Their affair lasted well-nigh of the summertime. They had to be discreet, of path, so once or twice a hebdomad Dillon would sneak over late at night, long after C.J. was asleep. They would make make love as quietly as possible, and after they both came a match times he would sneak back out.

No one suspected a thing until it all blew up one Saturday 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 things, breaking things, calling them names, threatening them. He chased a half-clothed Dillon out of the house, screaming at him, told him to ‘ get the infernal region out before I kill you ’.

Cliff made sure the whole neck of the woods and half the town knew all about it. Millie, the vicinity gossip had a champaign day. Katy and Dillon were shamed and ridiculed, she was a tramp and he was a turned on college asshole who couldn't keep his dick in his pants. Dillon's parents were greatly embarrassed too, which didn't help him at base, and didn't help their relationship with their neighbour.

C.J. was greatly upset by this turn of event. The family unit convulsion was bad enough, but he would also be losing his best friend. Because Dillon soon left and went back to school, five 60 minutes away, and stayed away, eventually graduating and taking a job that kept him there.

-- --

Standing on the extend porch of the funeral dwelling, Dillon took another long, mysterious intimation before he opened the smoke-cured glass door and entered. He walked tentatively through the vestibule and down the hall, passing several people he didn't recognize, until he found the justly elbow room. He signed the guest playscript outside the doorway, then entered.

He scanned the push room and didn't see any familiar faces at first, but soon sensed a assuredness vibe. The intuitive feeling of centre upon him, heading 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 Male voice to his left broke his concentration.

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

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

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

"fountainhead, make it rakish, 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 side, standing in social movement of a rampart of flowers, talking to an older duo 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 feet away from her.

It had been nearly four class, but suddenly the meaning of the phrase ‘ a pot for sore eyes'hit him like a lightning bolt. She still looked unbelievable. Tired, but strong and beautiful. She wore a long-sleeved black dress that hugged her slim down figure. Her blond whisker was whipped back in a Daniel Chester French twist, and her earrings matched the color of her sky-blue eyes.

He stood there, taking her in. Once she saw him, their eyes locked. The distich she was talking to point out it, looked at him, then back at her, and faded away. They held their gaze for a long, frozen minute, forgetful to the looker in the way. Dillon raised his veracious hand, with his purple-nailed pinky extended. Katy did the Sami with her powerful hand, the shining purpleness brilliantly contrasting the bleak polish on the rest of her nails. There was a sad smile on her boldness. The spectator were amused and confused by the gestures.

He walked toward her, right into her arms. The assorted client watched their tightly-wrapped bodies as they hugged. Dillon felt the slug of her chest against him, and whiffed the olfactory modality of fresh fruit in her fuzz. Their physical structure clenched and their crying flowed. They didn't want to let go.

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

"Of form. 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 bill and letters meant so much to him."

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

They finally broke their embrace and Katy took his manus and led him over to the jewel casket. They looked down at C.J., whose grimace was pale with a slight hint of a grinning. Dillon started crying softly when he saw how he was dressed. He was wearing his Jersey from Dillon's high school schoolhouse baseball team.

"It seemed only the right way that he tire his baseball jersey,"Katy said."It was his favorite piece of article of clothing. He treasured it."

Dillon put his arm around her again, pulled her close as his tears dripped down his brass. They stood there together until his rent abated. They stepped away, off into a nook 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 trend,"he said.

"Can I ask a favor ?"

"Sure. Anything."

"It's a big one."

"What is it ?"

"Would you speak at the service of process ?"

"Really ? Me ?"

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

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

"ex,"she blurted."This is my appearance, don't worry about him. If he gives us any diddley I'll call 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 better get back to your other Edgar Albert Guest,"he said, and gave her hand a firm credit crunch."I'll see you tomorrow."

He walked across the way and out of the fishbowl with his head held heights, and he felt the multitude of eyes in the room covering him like psychiatrist 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 train. So he went to the trim bedroom with pen and paper and tried to write something down, something meaningful, but nothing of meat would derive. His creative thinker was a jumble, adrift in his retentivity of C.J. There were too many experiences and conversations to ingest and organize. He was bone-tired, from the retentive drive, his lonely grief, and his visit to the fishbowl. He fell off to sleep without accomplishing much.

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

Dillon walked into the funeral abode twenty minutes early and was surprised at the transformation the space had gone through in xvi minute. The bulwark that had separated the viewing rooms had disappeared and it was three or four times the size of the fishbowl he'd visited the night before. It was now one big room, like an auditorium, lined with dustup and rows of folding chairs on two position separated by a center aisle, make to hold a declamatory turnout. The gang was trickling in. A dead child was quite a draw.

Katy's onetime sis, Sonia, was on the observatory for Dillon. She spotted him, grabbed his arm, and escorted him up to the indorse row, far left. She handed him a memorial pamphlet that had been printed up for the service.

"Sit here,"she said,"And thank you for doing this. It means so lots to Katy. And to me too, to all of us. The Pastor will speak and then he'll announce when it's your crook. You're right after him. respectable luck !"

Oh, dandy, he thought to himself. I follow the sermonizer. Lucky me.

Once the situation was to the full 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. drop was seated on the redress side, succeeding to a young woman.

Dillon sat through the too soon share of the service in a hazy daze. There were some input, then some music, then the Rev spoke for fifteen minute or so, reciting ***********ure and all of the appropriate, generic, cliched, God-has-a-plan mumbo jumbo. Then suddenly, he heard his name called.

He could almost feel the breathe in breathing time of the hush up attendants on his goose-fleshed arms as he strode to the pulpit. Once there, he looked out at the compact firm, impressed by the size of it. Every seat was taken and others stood around the face and back of the room. His hands sifted through the pockets of his jacket crown, shirt and trousers for his cue cards, but they were not to be found. He'd left them in his car, where he'd last rehearse. He would have to wing it.

He cleared his throat, adjusted the mike, raised it up. Took a deep breathing time. spooky activity. Then he began.

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

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

"When I was a boy, Katy and drop-off moved into the menage next threshold to my family unit. We could tell right away that they were outstanding multitude and would be great neighbour, and my class quickly accepted them into the neighborhood and into our life. They both worked full-time and Cliff traveled a lot, so I would do odd Job for them. I'd wash their railcar, cut their grass and weed their garden in the summer, shovel their drive when it snowed, take fear of their dog and feed their fish when they were away, anything to garner a few dollars.

"After C.J. was born, and it became clear that he was not a normal, tidy nipper, but instead had an ugly, nasty disease, well-nigh of their time was devoted to his special needs, his Doctor appointments, his medical checkup test, his handling, et cetera. Gradually, I was asked to do to a greater extent and more chore around their house and dimension because they just didn't have the time. I mended fencing, washed windows, cleaned out rainwater trough, raked leaves, stained the pack of cards, you name it.

"As C.J. got quondam, he would sit outside in his wheelchair, on the front porch or on the deck out in the back curtilage, and he'd watch me lick. And we would talk. We talked a lot. And by the time I was in my teens and C.J. was six days old, I realized that Mother Nature may induce given him an unhealthful body, but at the same clip she had given him a brilliant Edward Young mind.

"We talked about many matter, especially mutation. baseball and football were his favorites. The Baltimore Ravens were his favorite team, The Purple Pain. That's the reason for the majestic nail polish."

He raised his decent pinkie for all to see.

"Even at that Young age, he could read at a pretty senior high stratum and he impressed me with his intelligence information. His wit, his lexicon, his cognition. He knew every participant, knew their numbers racket and their stats and their acme and weights and where they went to college. He would amaze me and surprise me with historical facts about the players and the teams and the sports, stuff and nonsense I never knew, and I thought I knew a lot.

"And his position was always positive. I can't remember him ever feeling sorry for himself. But I do remember thought, how can this minuscule guy, whose body was so fallible, be so strong ? I began to take in that C.J. was not just the kid succeeding door, not just some Young Quaker. He was the small chum 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 jump and dally Ball with other kids, and have to use a wheelchair ? He looked down for a moment, 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 severely on my parents. I hate being such a loading to them ’. Even with all the adversity he'd faced in his life sentence, he didn't think about himself. He thought about others. He was more concerned with how it affected his Mom and Dad.

"I played football and baseball in high school and he followed my squad like he did the pros, and we talked about every plot. In the natural spring of my older year, as my baseball game team was in training for the upcoming season, C.J., who was nine or ten eld old by this time, told me he was going to come to all the home plate games 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 sidereal day before our maiden game. I asked him if I could buy an supererogatory team hat. He asked me why, had I lost mine ? I said no, and told him about C.J., and all the challenges he had faced in his young life, and how much he liked our team, and I'd like to give him a hat. omnibus 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 head and held that uniform in his hands, and fondled the letters on the tit of the jersey, he treasured it. And that season, Katy made sure he made it to every habitation game. handler cleared a special box adjacent to our dugout and the stands, just for him, and to accommodate his wheelchair, and you could see the joy on his face when the players and carriage would come over to shake his hired hand and say Hi to him. He came to every home game that time of year, dressed in his uniform and cap, to settle us on. He is wearing that very Sami NJ today.

"There was one game late in the time of year, a low-scoring hurler'duel. I pitched a two-hitter and hit a solo nursing home run to win the game one-to-nothing. After the secret plan and a mild celebration, I went over to his box. Katy and C.J. both had big smiling on their faces, happy as I'd ever seen them. And do you bed what C.J. differentiate me ? He said he was proud of me ! Can you believe that ? He was proud of me !

"well, I felt the emotion rise up in me like a blink flood. All I did was win a ball game. But I thought of all he had been through in his young life, and of all the potency and pertinacity he had to sustain every unmarried day, just to get through it all. I was on the verge of weeping. 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 a lot I respected him, and loved him. I hope he knows that, and knows how lots I've missed him.

"We all face hills and valleys in our lives. Good times, bad times, glad time, sad prison term. Ups and downs. And whenever I reach a low detail, a clip when I feel bad, or overwhelmed, and want to renounce or dedicate up or feel sorry for myself, I think of C.J. And it makes me find better, it makes me sense stronger, and suddenly things don't seem so bad. I feel like that's a gift he gave me.

"I should throw 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 acquaintance, my piddling brother. This world could use a few more citizenry like C.J."

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

Dillon sat through the remainder of the service, which was a blur of words, music, and a petition. Afterwards, he stood outside the funeral home, chatting with his parents and his sister Irene. In a thing of minutes, three dissimilar people came up to him and congratulated him on his eulogy. One said it was the substantially he'd ever heard.

Dillon and his phratry went to Katy's sign afterwards for some solid food and socializing and condolences, but they didn't last out too long. But they were there long enough for drop-off to come up to Dillon and actually apologize, and to compliment and thank him for his paean. As they were about to leave, Katy pulled him aside and asked him to fall back later, after the other client were gone. He said he would.

Sonia, who planned to ride out with Katy for a couple 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, still girl,"Katy said."Please. It's been four years."

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

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

-- --

It took a few hr before all of the invitee had finally left Katy's house. Dillon figured Katy could use a little land time, so he waited another minute before he went over. It was ahead of time evening when he knocked on her door. ‘ C'mon in ’, he heard Katy cry from inside.

They were in the living elbow room, to the left of the foyer. Sonia was seated in an easy chair facing Katy, who was on the sofa. Mellow jazz was playing softly. Katy patted the couch shock to her left, and Dillon took a hind end next to her.

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

For the following time of day they sipped lemonade and talked about the day : The avail, the preacher, the guests. Katy was well-chosen with the way everything had gone, especially pleased that cliff had behaved himself. She then recapped for Dillon the highlights and lowlights of her divorce. She was relieved she would not give birth to shell out with cliff again.

When the twirler was empty, Sonia excused herself."fountainhead, I'm going to move around in,"she said, as she stood up."It's been a crazy few days. Goodnight Sis. Goodnight Dillon, and thank you again for your eulogy. Everyone agreed it was wonderful. C.J. would have 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 first-class honours degree time they'd touched since he'd arrived."It was so real, and so bid. Everyone was in tears."

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

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

zippo was said for a spell. They just sat here, their bodies flush, their hands clasped, listening to gentle medicine, cherishing the unsubdivided pleasure of being together after so long. Katy nestled against him, Dillon rested his cheek against her hair and breathed in her pleasant-tasting, long-lost scent.

"This is nice,"Katy said, after some metre. Then she raised her head, turned to depend at him, and after a momentaneous pause, kissed him.

Their lips parted and their hungry sass went into overdrive, the once-familiar clapper becoming reacquainted. In a pulsation, their trunk turned and meshed and their arm locked around each early. Dillon felt her titty against his breast and pushed his hardening hammer against her, and as if they were in a time machine, they instantly picked up where they'd left off foresighted ago.

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

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

"check with me tonight,"she said.

"Are you sure ?"He kissed her neck.

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

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

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

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

"Good."

Katy put her grimace right hand up to his. She said :"Dillon, you and I are the two citizenry 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 script to her chamber, shutting the door behind them. They tore their clothes off as they french-kissed, each savoring the taste of the other.

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

It all came back in an split second. He knew exactly what she liked, and all of her cherubic fleck. She moaned with his soupcon and her dead body was soon writhing and wouldn't stop. He kissed her quivering second joint. He traced his tongue along the interior of her moistened scurvy lips, before plunging it inside her. Katy squeaked with pleasure, and Dillon drunk in the smell and gustatory modality of her, like a sip of cool sweetwater after four years in the desert.

He sucked her button into his rima oris, and just like the old days, Katy fell into the careen and fucked his expression with a regular recurrence matching his. It was as if no time had passed.

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

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

Dillon hummed a slow tune into her pussy, played her clitoris like a kazoo. Katy groaned loudly and squirmed some more. When she felt his finger get in her asshole her twat was about to explode.

It didn't take long for her to derive the inaugural time. It had been a long while since she'd had sex and her loins were trip happy. And Dillon knew how to crusade all her clit 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, warm surge of her saved-up cum surround his tongue and rinse his human face, and he tasted her juicy funk again, finally. He never thought this would happen again, but here they were. A thought flowed through his mind briefly as he lapped up her succus. He thought how he could never, ever get more intimate with a womanhood than he was at that mo : Her button in his mouthpiece, his digit up her ass, her cum on his face. But it was a flutter thought. His dick was swollen and unvoiced and achy. It was time to fuck.

Katy was reading his mind. When he put his slimy face up to hers, their sassing had barely touched when he felt her sturdy grip around his cock. 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 cook to rupture. But he didn't want to rush along matter. He wanted to urinate it last, make it beautiful. He kissed her, slid his hands back under her ass. He lingered, took his time, kissing her with his putz inside her and his fingers once again feeling their ways around her lovely coffin nail. He wanted to sleep together her slowly. They fell into a gentle, loving rhythm.

"You like this ?"

"I love this."

dorsum and Forth, up and down, in and out, taking their time, kissing, smiling, only gradually picking up fastness. Dillon knew he would have to follow soon, so he picked up his yard and started banging her harder, then harder, and Katy was okay with that. Her legs 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, sister, make it to me. move over it to me."

His torso shook with each hammered spurt. When his testicle were drained, his body, still wavering, was zapped and telling him to rest, but he did not. He wanted Katy to come again and he knew how to make that bechance. 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 heater up her butt. Then she bellowed, ugh…ugh…ugh… with each of his thrusts.

Her coming was another twisty bodyquake, eminent on the Katy plate. Her cum flowed big, and oozed out of her. Dillon felt it surround his putz and drip down his orb. It puddled on the bed.

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

*

Sonia enjoyed the appearance, although it was strictly auditory through the thin paries. It was like an X-rated radio receiver program. She'd never listened to her niggling sister piece of tail before, but it was quite the turn-on. She imagined Katy in the adjacent room, with her young lover on top of her, pounding her, making her shrieking like that. But she felt a calm come over her. She now knew her sis would be alright, because she was already healing, getting the shit fucked out of her by the man she had not yet admitted that she was in making love with. With the titillating sound and mind-vision of her thirty-nine yr old sister in the next room getting laid by her xxiv year old lover, she masturbated, then quickly fell asleep.

In the center of the night, Dillon woke up and walked into the lav adjacent to the master bedroom. He closed the door and turned on the luminousness. His mouth was dry, and tasted funky. He found some mouthwash under the sink and took a swig, squished it around and spit it into the sink. He turned on the faucet, ran the water onto his mitt and scooped a crapulence from his palms. He splashed his font and dried it. He raised the toilet buttocks and took a leak, then lowered the tail end. He flushed, hoping he wouldn't wake Katy.

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

The lavatory light went off, the door opened and Dillon came back to bed and lay beside her in the darkness. She immediately grabbed his limp shaft and stroked it with her slick hand. He turned to her in the wickedness and they kissed. Katy pivoted her consistence and went down on him, and sucked him for a minute until his putz reached its maximum callosity, length and cinch. Then she lay back beside him and pulled him on top of her. She splayed her legs wide-eyed and guided his shaft to her opening.

"fuck me,"she whispered.

He pushed his dick into her. It was nasty, but he slid in with a honeyed rubbing 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 stage and stroked her clit, which was already swollen with outlook. As Dillon began fucking her, she pulled her initiation harder and harder, wanting to pit his movements and come big when he did.

Dillon broke a alight sweat as he propelled his gumshoe in and out of her. It had been four retentive years since he'd buttfucked her, but he was now in a land of raptus. As his stiff, slippery tool sledded in and out of her, and he felt the house, hot pressing of her perfect ass around it, he felt like he was finally home.

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

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

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

Dillon gave it to her. His body shook with each of his spasms as he fired his load deep inside her, but he stayed in place because his dick was like an eight in rivet up her ass.

When he pulled out of her, Katy was still plucking her clit like it was an electric bass, reaching for her climax. Dillon was about to put his mouthpiece down there and do his thing, when Katy howled like a wound woman chaser and her torso shivered and she came in the night. They quickly fell asleep.

The sun was up when they woke later that morning. They said honest dayspring, kissed and Dillon spooned Katy from behind, holding her tight, not wanting to let her go. But soon he was kissing her neck and licking her ear, and then Katy turned to face him and they were kissing, and both were aroused, and they screwed again. But it was a stark direct contrast to their raunchy, middle-of-the-night assfuck. They made slow, cute lovemaking, taking the time to testify their attentions to every nook and chap and cleavage and orifice of their consistence. Afterward, they held each other in silence. No words were requirement.

But Dillon was thinking. He was thinking about how it was Saturday dawning and he would have one more day with Katy before he left to force back to his apartment and his job. He was thinking that he didn't go home hold out night and his family would know why. He was thinking about Millie, and how the gossip mill was probably already turning. Katy was the first one to speak, breaking the quiet and interrupting his thoughts, but practically reading his mind.

"motility in with me,"she said.

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

"I said, movement in with me."

"Move in with you ? What, here ?"

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

"Really ?"

"Yes, really. Why not ? It's chintzy rip, the house is paid for. That's one prescribed that came out of my divorcement. What's the matter, you don't want to ?"

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

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

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

"So, what's the problem ?"

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

"Yes, I'm sure, Dillon. It's not an crack I'd pull in to just anyone, and not without careful retainer. 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 a great deal metre thinking about you and missing you and I feel like I've waited four years for you. You make me find good, you make me laugh, you make me happy. And I love the way we fuck. And… Well… I love you. There. I said it. Now I'm going to take a shower."

Dillon watched her shapely, bare ass disappear into the can, leaving the door open. He heard her turn on the shower. He laughed quietly to himself. Something that he'd thought about for years, something that he thought could never find, 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 breast were covered with soap.

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

"I love you, Dillon."

Dillon moved under the spray and they kissed, a oceanic abyss, wet wing-dinger, as the weewee pounded them.

"So, how did you get over the fear ?"he asked."What made you settle 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 right field 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 finger's breadth over their wet, soapy consistency, and before you could say ‘ I'm hard again ’, Dillon was hard again. Less than a half hr after they'd made love in bed, they made lovemaking again in the cascade. With their mouths plastered together, and his hand cupped under her butt, and her legs wrapped around his waist, and his cock oceanic abyss inside her, and her backrest against the tile wall, they fucked for the beginning time as committed lovers, and they came in an echoed unison of orgasms just as the piss pouring down upon them ran cold.

-- --

It was late sunup by the meter Katy and Dillon made their way to the kitchen in search of food for thought. There was a bank note from Sonia on the kitchen mesa. She was gone. The gist of the note was that by the sounds she'd heard coming out of Katy's chamber, she knew that Katy would be hunky-dory without her hanging around. She wished them the best.

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

He left at four a.m. on Mon so he would get to the office on clock time. He had a officious day planned. In addition to respective appointments, he had to type up his letter of resignation and give his two-week notice. His supervisor was surprise when he told him he was leaving, but couldn't offer to relocate him. That was fine with Dillon ; Katy had said she would retrieve out when and where the real estate path were being given so he could hit the ground 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 menage, and never came back. She also said Millie was on the case.

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

-- --

Early on Saturday morning, the day after his last day at work, Dillon packed his car with as a good deal of his stuff as he could fit into the car, the trunk, and tied to the cap rails, and hit the road, and made that long, lonely drive for the in conclusion time. He spent most of the five hours in mystifying thought, thinking about Katy, and all the foul thing they were going to do when he got there. It was mid-afternoon by the meter 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 star sign alone.

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

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

She kissed him, jamming her tongue into his mouth. Wrapped in four arm, they shared one of the longest, rich 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 star sign, three doorway 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 saucer this with you, but I invited someone else to share the home with us."

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

"Yes. Do you like three-ways ?"

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

"Three-way. tierce. Threesome. Manage a trois. Whatever you want to call it. You know. You and me and another daughter. In bed together."

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

"You're into that ?"

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

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

She was lying on the bed, on top of a mare's nest 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 language sheepherder puppy !

"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 name ?"He rubbed her ears and stroked her back.

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

"ma'am ! What else ?"

Katy picked up a diminished gift-wrapped package off of the dresser and handed it to him. He ripped it assailable. It was a pink and juicy collar with an attach cordate tag that had ‘ gentlewoman'etched into it.

"Ah, you knew."

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

"What a squeamish 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 walkway and parcel her dish with the neighborhood ? It'll service get the rumor James Mill cranked up."

"phone like a plan."

So they put Lady's collar around her neck and hooked up her triplet, and they took a leisurely saunter around the block. And when they got back to the house, 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 wield a trois. Or three. Or trio. Or three-way, or whatever you want to prognosticate it. Katy and Dillon made tacky, passionate love, but for the most part, Lady just watched.

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