Note : This is a body of work of fable, events and fictitious character are a product of author 's imagination. The only two theatrical role who have sex are over 20 age of age.

FOR C.J.

Early on Tuesday morning time, Dillon's cell phone rang and woke him out of a beat nap. It was too early to hold a margin call, and way too early for the rude awakening his ringtone was blaring from the nightstand next to his bed : The intro of Won't Get Fooled Again by The Who. No one in their properly mind calls this early. Why didn't I turn this damn earphone off last night ?, he wondered. But he was odd and looked at the phone. The call was coming from a number he recognized. It was the landline in the theatre where he grew up. So he answered.

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

"Good first light, beloved,"his mother said.

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

"I know dear, 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 quiet for a long bit. Finally, he asked,"When ?"

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

Another continue pause.

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

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

"Poor Katy,"he repeated.

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

"Yes, Mom, Thank You. And please discover out the funeral placement and let me sleep with 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 aright thing to do ?"

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

-- --

Dillon grew up in a small, split-level planetary house in a suburban, middle-class neighborhood. Just him, his sister Irene, who was two old age younger, and his parents, Tanya and knot. The textbook nuclear fellowship. His parents still lived there. Dillon now lived in a townsfolk three hundred miles from there. He had moved away various years before under somewhat of a cloud. He thought it was the right matter to do at the time, considering the context he faced. He thought if he moved away, someplace where cypher knew him, he could spend his days living his life instead of trying to survive his past.

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

Lady was a striking, beautiful white German sheepherder. 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 household to cure. They ran ads for workweek, trying to find peeress's owner. No response. They were okay with that. By then, they loved Lady, and Lady loved them.

Dillon fell in love life with dame. 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 soggy lawn tennis balls a million metre, and she happily ran them down and returned them to him, and softly dropped them at his metrical unit.

Dillon became the next-door-neighbor-all-around helper to Katy and Cliff. He tended to madam of course, but also took care of many other chores to make a little money. He helped in the yard, weeded their garden, cleaned the deck, shoveled their drive when it snowed, fed their fish when they were away, among other things. cliff traveled for his job, so oftentimes Katy was alone during the week and Dillon was a big supporter.

When Katy became fraught, Dillon was nine twelvemonth old and got a collapse grade on the chick and the bees and soon became her right-hand man. He helped her out as much as he could when drop-off wasn't around. Whenever he noticed her pulling into her driveway, he'd run over and stockpile her bundle or groceries or whatever else she had, inside for her. She worked as a very estate agent, so she was always lugging a bag full-of-the-moon of report and files.

Over the month, as her paunch grew, Dillon had conversations with Katy like he'd never before had with an grownup. 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 desire a boy or a young woman ?"he asked her one time.

"I don't concern,"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 large months. When Katy finally gave birth, she had a piffling boy. He was named after his founder. Clifford Junior. Katy called him C.J. from the head start. But it did not turn out to be the happy, blessed effect everyone was expecting.

Before long it became obvious that something was not ripe with the piddling boy, and after umpteen run and referrals and medico and prayers and fits of angst and Great Depression and optimism and hopelessness, they learned that their precious little boy had muscular dystrophy. And it wasn't the run-of-the-mill, everyday muscular dystrophy, which was bad enough, but it was the ugly, ruthless, evilness, smuggled sheep cousin of M.D., the one that guaranteed a short-change life. Duchenne syndrome, they called it. C.J. was a very sick little boy.

-- --

After the telephone set birdcall from his mother, Dillon went to go that day and went through the motions for eight 60 minutes. He was a salesman for a company that sold lawn, garden and farm equipment, but he didn't sell anything that day. Not even close. His heart and mind were far away. About the alone thing he accomplished was to arrange to take a mates days off so he could go back home, or what was once his home, and attend the funeral.

He got back to his apartment that night, ate a grilled high mallow sandwich and a bowlful of soup for dinner, and did a load of laundry. He was happy his roommate wasn't around because he wasn't in the temper to chit-chat. He had just started to pack a bag for the trip when his mother called and told him the funeral plan. There would be screening on each of the next two nights, Wednesday and Thursday, and the funeral would be Fri morning. He decided he would work Wednesday, and drive there on Thursday for the viewing. If all went well he could attend the funeral on Friday, and have the weekend to visit with his common people and maybe a acquaintance or two.

-- --

The initiative few days of C.J.'s life were a steady parade of MD's business office, tests, forbidding intelligence and Bob Hope for a miracle. It put a large strain on Katy and Cliff of course, and their wedlock began to brook. Katy was a strong mom, but her gloominess was a weight that became harder and laborious to disguise. cliff had a terrible fourth dimension coping with having a terminally-ill child, as if his sperm were the cause of it and somehow made him LE of a man. He appeared stymy and ashamed, and never bonded with his son. He traveled Thomas More and Sir Thomas More, and wassail more and more, distancing himself, trying to lessen the pain in the neck and desperation. As C.J. was growing up, his dad was not much of a factor. His parents eventually separated, got back together, separated again. slipstream, 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 throw a period to sit with C.J. for a while, and they would talk about thing. A lot of things. Especially sports.

Dillon was amazed with C.J.'s noesis of fun, especially baseball and football. Although he'd never play the biz, 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 questions. He knew the histories of the sports, facts and events from way before his clip, stuff of which Dillon had no clue. female parent 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 older in high school, he was a star on the baseball game team. Katy would get C.J. to all the dwelling plot and would park his wheelchair in the limited spot the team had reserved for him, where he'd ascendent for his team. The players would total over to him and say hi, and considered him the team mascot and their number one fan.

Over the years Dillon had spent hundreds and hundreds of minute doing chores for Katy, and spending meter talking with her and C.J. As a solution, he came to earn two very important things.

One, C.J. was not just an unfortunate, disabled kid who happened to live adjacent door. No, he was much more than that. He was smart, he was witty, and despite everything he'd been through, he was a happy child. He was a Friend. A close friend. Like the little pal he'd never had.

And two, he no longer just viewed Katy as the astonishing mom succeeding door who didn't talk down to him and paid him to do jobs that needed to be done around the household. He saw her differently now. She was a friend, yes, but she was a woman. A substantial, attractive woman. Some innocent flirting happened from metre to time. So what if she's 15 years older, he thought. No harm done.

He found himself admiring her middling face, trim body, business firm breasts, and stringent ass. And he always noticed her fingernails. They were always manicured and neatly polished, and regardless of what colour she'd Chosen for her former seven fingers and her two thumb, her right pinky was always the Saami : Bright, fluorescent purple. It stood out like a radio beacon, and Dillon didn't know what it meant, but he liked it.

He didn't act on his desires, of course. Why would a thirties, semi-married char with a sick child be interested in an eighteen year old boy ? He tried to put her out of his psyche. He went off to college and learn and got involved in a numeral of activeness. He partied and slept with several girls. But when he came home base for holiday or summer vacations, he would always spend fourth dimension next threshold with Katy and C.J.

When Dillon came nursing home for the summer after his sophomore year of college, he was twenty years old. He went following doorway to visit, and learned that the Doctor of the Church had placed C.J. in a handling installation for a few days for another barrage of psychometric test. That's when his function with Katy began.

-- --

It was a five hour drive. Dillon didn't remember nearly of it, which kind of scared him. He had no recall of miles and miles of highway that had disappeared into his fundament aspect mirror. His mind was focused on what lay ahead. How was Katy holding up ? Would Cliff make a scene ? How would people react when he showed up ? Would he be welcomed, or sneered at ? Would his parents be embarrassed, or would they support him ?

He'd timed things perfectly. The viewing was scheduled for six- until eight p.m., and he pulled into the funeral dwelling parking lot at 6:30. He drove to the farthest end and parked his car. He sat, rested, waited. He reached to his right and picked up the small bottle of nail down finish from the passenger seat. atomic number 10 Purple. 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 breathing time, straightened his tie, opened the door, got out, retrieved his mutation coat from the come-on above the backseat window, and walked to the building.

-- --

Dillon got home on a Thursday afternoon in late May after completing his soph twelvemonth of college. In a calendar week or two he'd experience his gradation and officially be a junior. He would be domicile for three months, and would embark on his summertime job in a few days. After dinner with his parents, he noticed that Katy's car still was not parked in her drive future room access. It hadn't been there earlier when he'd gotten home, which was not unusual, but Katy always made a point to experience C.J.'s dinner party ready at the like time every night, and now it was well past that metre. He looked out the window periodically, checking for Katy's car. At a lilliputian after nine o'clock he noticed that her car was now in her driveway. It was getting a bit recent 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 say right away that something was wrong. Her blond fuzz was bunched into a cultivated cabbage ball atop her head, her blouse was wrinkled, her lean grimace 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 snag. 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 curves of her eubstance punishing against his. She hugged him back, put her head against his shoulder, and cried harder. He let her cry.

When her rip subsided they went into the den. They sat on the couch, side of meat by side. Katy explained that C.J. had had an attack of some sort and couldn't breathe. She called 911. He was back in the hospital. More tests, more scans, Thomas More doctors. She was a neural wreck 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 polished nails. All of her nails were painted blackness, except one : Her the right way little finger was regal. He'd always been curious about this use of hers, this purple pinky. He'd noticed it many times, and no matter whether the rest of her nails were polished or not, her right pinky always was, and always stood out in bright purple.

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

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

He squeezed her handwriting and pinky. She squeezed back.

"You know his favorite football game squad ?"she said.

"Of course of instruction. The Ravens."

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

"That's prissy,"Dillon said softly."You're a practiced Mom, Katy."

Katy shook her principal."My inadequate niggling boy,"she blurted, and burst into another flood of tears.

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

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

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

"You're always so well-heeled to peach to."

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

"I know."She hesitated, played with his finger."But I feel so alone. I can't retrieve the last clip I felt unspoiled. About anything."

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

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

Rubbery, was his first thought. Soft. Sensual. Not like most of the hard-lipped, forced college young woman kisses he'd had. Really nice, felt natural. His back talk lingered on hers for a import before he backed away. Her middle were wide, 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. Please forgive me."

"Don't be sorry, it's okay,"she replied, and gently pulled his mitt toward her."I like it. It felt dear. I want to sense good."Her fingers laced thick into his. She took a mysterious breath and said,"Do it again."

Dillon tightened his grip on her shoulder, dug in, made sure she felt it. He pulled her to him and their upper eubstance touched, then melded. His hand went to her titty and he thumbed her stiff tit through the onionskin fabrics of her blouse and bra. When he put his face to hers, Katy's lips parted immediately and her tongue slithered into his mouth. She slued around to face him, pulled him close, front-on-front, their eubstance flush now, giving her natural language deeper depth. Dillon sucked her tongue, which was swirling like a lizard in his mouth. He felt her titty firmly against his chest, her sleeve around him, and her leg looped over his. The osculate went on, a duet of tongues, until saliva oozed between their lips and their jetty were on high alert.

When their oral cavity finally separated, Katy peppered Dillon's face with candy kiss peck, saying,"I need this. I want this."She pivoted her body, straddled his branch, sat on his lap, facing him. She felt his dick hard against her fork. She kissed him again with overt sass, her spit on a rampage, two thirsty oral cavity screwing while she ground her heap onto his swollen cock and pressed her stoked bosom against his chest. The kiss went on, their mitt roamed on backrest and stern, he was hard, she was wet.

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

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

Naked, their soundbox plunged onto the bed. Katy's mouth was ravenous, attacking his, sucking his natural language into her mouth. Her spry bridge player and finger squeezed his ass, surrounded his cock. 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 get on woman, not some dumb college large-minded with no more experience than he. He wanted to please her, he had to. He decided to contain control, pick up the pace. pushing, grinding, overdoing.

"Hey,"Katy said warmly, running her fingers through his forgetful, brown fuzz."Take it easy. exact your sentence. 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 rim hypnotizing him. With her hands on either side of his brain, she guided it downward until her twat was in his nerve. She fingered her clitoris in presence of his face.

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

Dillon dove in. He took her swollen yield into his lip, molded his lips around it, tasted it with gentle 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 case to twat. He explored her hungry, squirmy cunt with his knife, and savored her wet, salty tang. He kept at it, stayed down there, and wouldn't come up for air until he'd engender what he was after.

Katy's eubstance writhed with pleasure as he ate her. Her custody were firmly adhered to his head as she smushed her genitalia into his aspect. She started grinding her pussy into his font, 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 flush on his face, was surprised by its intensity, like none he'd experienced before. Katy was surprised too ; even though it had been a while, her torso shook with the mightiness 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 soundbox stopped quivering.

She pulled his heading up to hers and kissed him, tasted her cum in his lip. As they kissed, his body atop hers, she wrapped her hand around his shaft and fed it into her drippy snatch. It slid into her with slick simplicity, balls deep.

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

She wrapped her legs around his comparable tentacles and squeezed, tightening like a boa, as if to get every net drop of juice from a lemon. Dillon took the not-so-subtle confidential information. He clenched her buttocks in his hands and started drilling her.

He was slinging it pretty good. His private parts was pounding hers and she was rolling with it, in sync, fucking right back at him, every inch of her consistence into it. Their fucking took on a staccato rhythm method, like rim shots on a snare, smack smooch smack nose drops, while the bed springs played hi-hat.

It went on, and on, their crotch colliding on a quest for dismissal, and they kissed as they fucked. Dillon was going to dump a burden of his semen into this beautiful, grow charwoman, he knew that, but he slowed for a clock time, not wanting to spoil his top too soon. Her joy would amount before his.

Two sweaty dead body throbbing. Two mouths and tongues plastered together. Two handwriting clenching two derriere cheeks, 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 little extra poke in his stroke. She moaned again, louder.

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

She came in another deluge, barely LE than her foremost. She pinched his cock with her out-of-shape pussy muscles and dug her fingertips into his upper back. Dillon banged her harder for four or five thwacks and his pulsating R-2 of cum vaulted into her.

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

"That was marvelous,"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 oceanic abyss 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 luminescence of their lovemaking.

*

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

It was only ten minutes later. His arms were still around her, and hers were around him. Their centre 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 good morning, had a danish and a coffee from the car at the hospital. Wasn't hungry all day, but I am now. How ‘ round I fix us some tuna Fish sandwiches ?"

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

"What's good story ?"Katy asked.

"Tuna fish."

"tunny Pisces is shady ? 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 Pisces. It's not like we could confuse tuna with anything other than a fish. Know what I mean ?"

"Um, I guess so."

"I mean, we say bluefish or careen fish because those words 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 ‘ haddock fish'or ‘ trout fish ’. We don't say ‘ ground beef cow ’, or ‘ porc chopper pig ’. So why do we say tuna fish ?"

"I really couldn't Tell you Dillon,"she said."Maybe it's the like grounds 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 damn if his dick wasn't hard.

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

She went down on him and took his putz into her mouth. She slipped her in-between finger into his SOB and reamed him from behind as she sucked him. Within minute of arc Dillon grunted and bucked and came in spurts 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 thinker. Just lie back and reflect on the not bad Anguilla sucklandii fish conundrum while I make us a couple sandwiches."

After they ate their sandwiches and chips, they fucked again. Then it was getting late, and Katy suggested that Dillon leave so that no rumors got started, no subject how true they might be. He agreed that it was a good 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 belatedly at Nox, long after C.J. was gone. They would induce bang as quietly as possible, and after they both came a mates times he would sneak back out.

No one suspected a thing until it all blew up one Saturday Nox in early August. They were in the heart of a fervid sixty-nine when a drunken cliff showed up unpredicted and caught them in the act. He went ballistic, screaming, throwing matter, 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 Hades out before I kill you ’.

cliff made for sure the whole neighborhood and half the township knew all about it. Millie, the neighborhood chit chat had a field of force day. Katy and Dillon were shamed and ridiculed, she was a tramp and he was a horny college son of a bitch who couldn't go along his gumshoe in his pant. Dillon's parents were greatly embarrassed too, which didn't help him at dwelling, and didn't help their family relationship with their neighbors.

C.J. was greatly upset by this play of events. The home turmoil was bad enough, but he would also be losing his right friend. Because Dillon soon left and went back to school, five hours away, and stayed away, eventually graduating and taking a job that kept him there.

-- --

Standing on the covered porch of the funeral domicile, Dillon took another tenacious, trench breath before he opened the smoked crank doorway and entered. He walked tentatively through the anteroom and down the hall, passing several people he didn't recognize, until he found the good room. He signed the guest book outside the doorway, then entered.

He scanned the crowded room and didn't see any familiar faces at first, but soon sensed a cool off vibration. The feeling of eyes upon him, nous 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 fishbowl. Then a male vocalism to his left broke his concentration.

"What are you doing here, asshole ? I can't believe you had the formal to depict your side around here."

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

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

"Well, make it crisp, Lover Boy. We don't wan na have a setting. She's over by the coffin. Say hi and bye."

Cliff wobbled away and Dillon eyed the far end of the elbow room. He spotted Katy off to the incline, standing in front of a bulwark of bloom, talking to an older couple that looked vaguely associate. He started walking toward her and the crowd of client parted like the Red Sea before him. He stopped about eight feet away from her.

It had been nearly four long time, but suddenly the signification of the phrase ‘ a sight for sore middle'hit him like a lightning bolt. She still looked unbelievable. Tired, but strong and beautiful. She wore a long-sleeved inkiness dress that hugged her slim down figure. Her blond hair was whipped back in a french crook, and her earrings matched the colouration of her azure eyes.

He stood there, taking her in. Once she saw him, their eyes locked. The match she was talking to notice it, looked at him, then back at her, and faded away. They held their gaze for a foresightful, block moment, oblivious to the viewer in the room. Dillon raised his mightily hand, with his purple-nailed pinky extended. Katy did the Same with her right hand, the promising purple brilliantly contrasting the black polish on the rest of her nails. There was a sad smile on her face. The viewer were amused and confused by the gestures.

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

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

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

"I know. He loved you too."

"I'm so sorry."

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

"I loved getting his letter of the alphabet, too. I've saved them all."

They finally broke their embracing and Katy took his hand and led him over to the casket. They looked down at C.J., whose grimace was pallid with a slender ghost of a smile. Dillon started crying softly when he saw how he was dressed. He was wearing his island of Jersey from Dillon's high school school baseball team.

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

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

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

"Of course,"he said.

"Can I ask a party favour ?"

"Sure. Anything."

"It's a big one."

"What is it ?"

"Would you speak at the serve ?"

"Really ? Me ?"

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

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

"ex-husband,"she blurted."This is my show, don't worry about him. If he gives us any diddly 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 Guest,"he said, and gave her handwriting a house squeeze."I'll see you tomorrow."

He walked across the room and out of the goldfish bowl with his forefront held high, and he felt the throng of eyes in the room covering him like shrink wrap.

-- --

Dillon stayed at his parents'house that night, although he didn't talk to them much, only for a few instant. He told them he'd been asked to speak at the funeral service and he had to groom. So he went to the unembellished bedroom with pen and paper and tried to save something down, something meaningful, but nothing of pith would fall. His thinker was a clutter, adrift in his memory board of C.J. There were too many experiences and conversations to take in and coordinate. He was bone-tired, from the long drive, his lonely brokenheartedness, and his sojourn to the goldfish bowl. He fell off to sleep without accomplishing much.

He slept like petrified Wood. He woke up early, refreshed, and jotted down a list of bullet points on three-by-five cards. He didn't know if he'd speak for two min or twenty. He trusted that his Muse would show up when the time was right.

Dillon walked into the funeral abode twenty dollar bill proceedings early and was surprised at the transformation the place had gone through in sixteen hr. The bulwark that had separated the showing 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 words and run-in of folding chairs on two English separated by a center aisle, ready to accommodate a large turnout. The crowd was trickling in. A dead child was quite a draw.

Katy's aged sister, Sonia, was on the lookout station for Dillon. She spotted him, grabbed his arm, and escorted him up to the second row, far left. She handed him a memorial leaflet that had been printed up for the service.

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

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

Once the post was full and SRO, Katy was ushered down the aisle to the front end row on the go forth side, and the appearance got on the route, right on metre. cliff was seated on the right position, next to a 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 xv instant or so, reciting ***********ure and all of the conquer, generic wine, cliched, God-has-a-plan mumbo jumbo. Then suddenly, he heard his name called.

He could almost palpate the inspire breathing space of the still co-occurrence on his goose-fleshed weapon system as he strode to the podium. Once there, he looked out at the packed house, impressed by the size of it. Every buns was taken and others stood around the position and back of the room. His hands sifted through the pockets of his crownwork, shirt and pant for his cue bill, but they were not to be found. He'd left them in his car, where he'd last practice. He would let to wing it.

He cleared his throat, adjusted the microphone, raised it up. Took a deep breath. nervous natural process. Then he began.

"When I was asked to verbalize 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 deference, 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 drop moved into the house following doorway to my household. We could tell right away that they were groovy people and would be great neighbors, and my family quickly accepted them into the neighborhood and into our lives. They both worked full-time and Cliff traveled a lot, so I would do odd jobs for them. I'd wash their railway car, cut their grass and weed their garden in the summer, shovel their private road when it snowed, choose charge of their dog and flow their fish when they were away, anything to bring in a few dollars.

"After C.J. was born, and it became clear that he was not a normal, healthy child, but instead had an ugly, nasty disease, nearly of their prison term was devoted to his particular needs, his doctor appointments, his medical tests, his discussion, et cetera. Gradually, I was asked to do to a greater extent and more chores around their house and property because they just didn't have the clip. I mended fences, washed windows, cleaned out rain gutter, raked leaves, stained the deck of cards, you name it.

"As C.J. got older, he would sit outside in his wheelchair, on the nominal head porch or on the deck of cards out in the hinder yard, and he'd watch me work. And we would talk. We talked a lot. And by the time I was in my teen and C.J. was six years old, I realized that Mother Nature may have given him an insalubrious eubstance, but at the Same clock time she had given him a brilliant young mind.

"We talked about many matter, especially summercater. baseball and football were his dearie. The Baltimore Ravens were his favorite squad, The Purple Pain. That's the rationality for the purpleness nail polish."

He raised his decently pinky for all to see.

"Even at that Whitney Young age, he could understand at a pretty richly level and he impressed me with his intelligence. His wit, his vocabulary, his knowledge. He knew every player, knew their routine and their stats and their heights and weights and where they went to college. He would stupefy me and surprise me with diachronic facts about the role player and the squad and the sports, stuff and nonsense I never knew, and I thought I knew a lot.

"And his attitude was always positive. I can't remember him ever feeling sorry for himself. But I do call up intellection, how can this little guy, whose body was so watery, be so substantial ? I began to pull in that C.J. was not just the kid next door, not just some young Friend. He was the little brother I never had.

"I asked him one time, do you ever get mad that you were born with this disease, and you can't run and saltation and recreate ball with other kidskin, 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 intemperately on my parents. I hate being such a burden to them ’. Even with all the hardship he'd faced in his life, he didn't think about himself. He thought about others. He was more touch on with how it affected his Mom and Dad.

"I played football game and baseball in high school and he followed my squad like he did the professional, and we talked about every secret plan. In the spring of my senior yr, as my baseball team was in training for the upcoming time of year, C.J., who was nine or ten years old by this sentence, told me he was going to come to all the place games and ascendant 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 twenty-four hours before our outset plot. I asked him if I could buy an extra 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 young life sentence, and how much he liked our team, and I'd like to cave in him a hat. Coach said, Hell, Dillon, you don't need to pay for it, and he not only gave me a hat, but gave me a whole team uniform, the little 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 varsity letter on the breast of the Jersey, he treasured it. And that season, Katy made sure he made it to every abode game. Coach 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 coaches would come over to throw off his manus and say Hi to him. He came to every home game that season, dressed in his uniform and cap, to rootle us on. He is wearing that very same island of Jersey today.

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

"well, I felt the emotion rise up in me like a flash flood. All I did was win a ballgame. But I thought of all he had been through in his immature life story, and of all the lastingness and persistency he had to consume every single day, just to get through it all. I was on the verge of tears. I told him thank you, and that I was proud of him too. But I don't know if he knew how truly 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 Benny Hill and valleys in our life history. Good times, bad sentence, gladiolus prison term, sad sentence. Ups and John L. H. Down. And whenever I reach a low detail, a time when I feel bad, or overwhelmed, and want to quit or give up or palpate sorry for myself, I think of C.J. And it makes me experience better, it makes me feel stronger, and suddenly things don't seem so bad. I feel like that's a gift he gave me.

"I should consume told him that I loved him. I regret that. I never told him that I loved him. But I did. And I always will. He was my Friend, my little brother. This world could use a few more people like C.J."

You could have heard a pin drop as Dillon left the podium with all heart upon him. He was choked up, wide of emotion, the crying were bubbling in his eyes, but he'd somehow gotten through it. He glanced at Katy as he walked back to his hindquarters. 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 keister, relieved and drained.

Dillon sat through the residuum of the servicing, which was a fuzz of Holy Writ, music, and a supplication. Afterwards, he stood outside the funeral home, chatting with his parents and his baby Irene. In a affair of minute of arc, three dissimilar people came up to him and congratulated him on his eulogy. One said it was the dependable he'd ever heard.

Dillon and his family went to Katy's star sign afterwards for some nutrient and socialization and condolences, but they didn't stick too long. But they were there long enough for drop to make out up to Dillon and actually apologize, and to compliment and thank him for his pean. As they were about to leave, Katy pulled him aside and asked him to get back later, after the early guests were gone. He said he would.

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

"Oh, still young lady,"Katy said."Please. It's been four years."

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

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

-- --

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

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

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

For the succeeding hour they sipped lemonade and talked about the day : The service, the preacher, the client. Katy was happy with the way everything had gone, especially delight that Cliff had behaved himself. She then recapped for Dillon the highlighting 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 turn in,"she said, as she stood up."It's been a crazy few daytime. 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 outset time they'd touched since he'd arrived."It was so real, and so tender. 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 fluent, no one could tell."She rested her head on his shoulder.

goose egg was said for a while. They just sat here, their consistency flush, their hands clasped, listening to gentle music, cherishing the simple joy of being together after so long. Katy nestled against him, Dillon rested his face against her pilus and breathed in her yummy, long-lost scent.

"This is nice,"Katy said, after some time. Then she raised her head, turned to bet at him, and after a momentaneous suspension, kissed him.

Their lips parted and their thirsty sass went into overdrive, the once-familiar clapper becoming reacquainted. In a heartbeat, their organic structure turned and meshed and their arms locked around each early. Dillon felt her tits against his thorax and pushed his hardening cock against her, and as if they were in a prison term machine, they instantly picked up where they'd left off yearn ago.

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

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

"check with me tonight,"she said.

"Are you sure ?"He kissed her neck.

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

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

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

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

"Good."

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

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

They rose and Katy led him by his hand to her bedroom, shutting the room access behind them. They tore their clothes off as they french-kissed, each savoring the gustation 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 sweet fleck. She moaned with his sense of touch and her dead body was soon writhing and wouldn't stop. He kissed her quivering second joint. He traced his glossa along the interior of her moistened lower mouth, before plunging it inside her. Katy squeaked with pleasure, and Dillon sot in the smell and taste of her, like a sip of cool sweetwater after four years in the desert.

He sucked her clitoris into his rima oris, and just like the old 24-hour interval, Katy fell into the sway and fucked his face with a rhythm matching his. It was as if no clock time had passed.

Dillon's helping hand slithered under her butt, his fingertips dug into her chap, and he squeezed.

"Ugh,"Katy groaned. She had her thumbs in his ears and her finger's breadth webbed around the back of his head as he ate her.

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

It didn't take long for her to do the first time. It had been a retentive spell since she'd had sex and her loins were trigger happy. And Dillon knew how to push 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 figure when her dike broke. He felt the wet, warm rush of her saved-up cum surround his tongue and rinse off his face, and he tasted her juicy funk again, finally. He never thought this would happen again, but here they were. A thought flowed through his mind briefly as he lapped up her juice. He thought how he could never, ever get more intimate with a woman than he was at that minute : Her button in his oral fissure, his finger up her ass, her cum on his side. But it was a fleeting thought. His pecker was swollen and hard and achy. It was sentence to fuck.

Katy was reading his brain. When he put his slimy face up to hers, their lips had barely touched when he felt her tough handle around his prick. She fed it right into her slippery gash and started humping. No recovery fourth dimension for this gal. She wanted it again.

No trouble. Dillon was ready to raid. But he didn't want to speed things. He wanted to make it last, make it beautiful. He kissed her, slid his hands back under her ass. He lingered, took his sentence, kissing her with his tool inside her and his fingers once again feeling their shipway around her lovely butt. He wanted to know her slowly. They fell into a gentle, loving rhythm.

"You like this ?"

"I love this."

Back and forth, up and down, in and out, taking their sentence, kissing, smiling, only gradually picking up speeding. Dillon knew he would sustain to come soon, so he picked up his rate and started banging her harder, then harder, and Katy was okay with that. Her peg were wrapped around his, constricting, as she slung her physical structure at him over and over as his prick rammed her ripe twat.

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

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

"Yeah, infant, hold it to me. Give it to me."

His body shook with each hammered spirt. When his nuts were drained, his soundbox, still wavering, was zapped and telling him to perch, but he did not. He wanted Katy to come again and he knew how to ready that happen. So he jammed his digit up her ass and started pumping his drained dong into her as hard as he could without throwing his back out.

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

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

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

*

Sonia enjoyed the show, although it was strictly auditory through the slight rampart. It was like an X-rated radio program. She'd never listened to her little sister fuck before, but it was quite the turn-on. She imagined Katy in the next room, with her untested buff on top of her, pounding her, making her screech like that. But she felt a calm cum over her. She now knew her sister would be alright, because she was already healing, getting the SOB fucked out of her by the man she had not yet admitted that she was in love with. With the titillating phone and mind-vision of her 39 year old sister in the side by side way getting laid by her xxiv year old devotee, she masturbated, then quickly fell asleep.

In the middle of the night, Dillon woke up and walked into the john adjacent to the master bedroom. He closed the door and turned on the light. His oral cavity was dry, and tasted funky. He found some mouthwash under the sump and took a gulp, squished it around and spit it into the cesspool. He turned on the faucet, ran the water onto his hands and scooped a drink from his palms. He splashed his face and dried it. He raised the commode seat and took a passing water, then lowered the seat. He flushed, hoping he wouldn't wake Katy.

But Katy was awake. She'd stirred when he got out of bed, watched his aphrodisiacal material body as he walked to the john, watched the door close and the get off come on. She heard the body of 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 vacuum tube and squeezed, rubbed the oily stuff all over her workforce, and fingered herself.

The bathroom light went off, the room access opened and Dillon came back to bed and lay beside her in the darkness. She immediately grabbed his limp tool and stroked it with her sleek down script. He turned to her in the darkness and they kissed. Katy pivoted her organic structure and went down on him, and sucked him for a mo until his cock reached its maximum hardness, length and cinch. Then she lay back beside him and pulled him on top of her. She splayed her legs blanket and guided his shaft to her opening.

"screwing me,"she whispered.

He pushed his turncock into her. It was sloshed, but he slid in with a mellifluous 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 prospect. As Dillon began fucking her, she pulled her gun trigger harder and harder, wanting to match his movements and come big when he did.

Dillon broke a light travail as he propelled his dick in and out of her. It had been four long years since he'd buttfucked her, but he was now in a state of ecstasy. As his stiff, slippery cock sledded in and out of her, and he felt the house, hot press of her perfect ass around it, he felt like he was finally home.

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

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

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

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

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

The sun was up when they woke later that morning. They said good morning, kissed and Dillon spooned Katy from behind, holding her tight, not wanting to let her go. But soon he was kissing her neck and licking her ear, and then Katy turned to face him and they were kissing, and both were aroused, and they screwed again. But it was a stark line to their raunchy, middle-of-the-night assfuck. They made slow, valued love, taking the metre to show their attentions to every corner and cranny and cleavage and porta of their bodies. Afterward, they held each other in muteness. No words were necessary.

But Dillon was thinking. He was thinking about how it was Saturday morning and he would have one More day with Katy before he left to repel back to his flat and his job. He was thinking that he didn't go home last dark and his family would make out why. He was thinking about Millie, and how the small talk Mill was probably already turning. Katy was the first one to speak, breaking the silence and interrupting his thoughts, but practically reading his mind.

"movement in with me,"she said.

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

"I said, movement in with me."

"Move in with you ? What, here ?"

"Of course, here. Where else ?"

"Really ?"

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

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

"So ? Quit. You can find oneself a job here, if the company can't relocate you. Or better yet, get a tangible estate license, we'll study 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 problem. Just unexpected, I guess. Are you certainly about this ?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Dillon. It's not an offer I'd take to just anyone, and not without careful consideration. I've thought process 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 for certain ? I'm surely because I've spent so a good deal time thinking about you and missing you and I feel like I've waited four years for you. You make me feel 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 occupy a shower."

Dillon watched her shapely, naked ass disappear into the bathroom, leaving the door undecided. He heard her go on the shower. He laughed quietly to himself. Something that he'd sentiment about for years, something that he thought could never happen, was happening. He got off the bed and walked into the privy. He slid the shower door aside and stepped in beside her. Katy's nipple were covered with soap.

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

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

"You were ?"

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

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

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

"You make me happy too. I love you, Katy."

"I love you, Dillon."

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

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

"It was something my sister said. She said that it was so obvious that we were in love. The way we looked at each other, the way we hugged, the way we interacted. I knew she was right 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 trunk, and before you could say ‘ I'm hard again ’, Dillon was hard again. Less than a half hour after they'd made love in bed, they made dearest again in the rain shower. With their backtalk plastered together, and his manpower cupped under her ass, and her ramification wrapped around his waist, and his shaft deep inside her, and her back against the tile paries, they fucked for the low gear time as institutionalise lovers, and they came in an echoed unison of orgasms just as the piddle pouring down upon them ran cold.

-- --

It was late morning by the clock time Katy and Dillon made their way to the kitchen in lookup of food. There was a note from Sonia on the kitchen tabular array. She was gone. The substance of the promissory note was that by the sounds she'd heard coming out of Katy's bedchamber, she knew that Katy would be fine without her hanging around. She wished them the best.

The rest of the weekend was a round-the-clock love-in. They rarely left the bedroom. They had too very 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 tell them that he was going to be their newest next threshold neighbor.

He left at four a.m. on Monday so he would get to the office on time. He had a interfering day planned. In addition to several date, he had to type up his alphabetic character of surrender and generate his two-week notice. His executive program was surprise when he told him he was leaving, but couldn't offering to relocate him. That was ok with Dillon ; Katy had said she would receive out when and where the real estate grade were being given so he could hit the ground running when he got back.

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

He had no problem getting out of his apartment. His roommate's lady friend had been staying over a lot anyway, and now she could just actuate in and take his piazza. It worked out for the effective for all of them.

-- --

Early on Saturday break of the day, the day after his live on day at work, Dillon packed his car with as much of his stuff as he could fit into the car, the automobile trunk, and tied to the cap rails, and hit the road, and made that long, lonely drive for the last time. He spent most of the five hours in deeply thought, thinking about Katy, and all the awful things they were going to do when he got there. It was mid-afternoon by the time he got to Katy's theater, and he didn't know it, but he was in for a big surprise. He was soon to recover out that he and Katy would not be living in the planetary house alone.

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

"Welcome home,"she said, as she took him into her arms."Just in case there are any neighbors watching, let's chip in them something to blab out about."

She kissed him, jamming her spit into his mouth. Wrapped in four blazonry, they shared one of the longest, deepest osculation they'd ever had. When they finally ended the buss, they were laughing.

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

They both turned toward Millie's planetary house, three doors down on the recess, and waved. They knew she was probably peeking through one of her mantle, watching.

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

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

"You did ?"he said, already wondering what variety of Irish bull bucket he'd stepped into.

"Yes. Do you like three-ways ?"

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

"Three-way. tercet. tierce. 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 60 minutes 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 outstanding in bed. seed on, I'll introduce you."

In a daze he followed her to the invitee bedroom at the far end of the hall. Katy opened the threshold and went into the elbow room, Dillon was powerful behind. Then he saw her.

She was lying on the bed, on top of a jumble of blankets. Her eye 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, Andrew D. White German shepherd pup !

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

"Ooh, I hope so."

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

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

"Lady ! What else ?"

Katy picked up a belittled gift-wrapped package off of the chest of drawers and handed it to him. He ripped it open. It was a pink and downhearted collar with an attached cordiform tag that had ‘ Lady'etched into it.

"Ah, you knew."

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

"What a nice 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 percentage her beauty with the region ? It'll help get the hearsay mill cranked up."

"Sounds like a plan."

So they put madam's collar around her neck opening and hooked up her leash, and they took a leisurely stroll around the block. And when they got back to the theater, Dillon dragged Katy into the bedroom. They tore each others'wearing apparel off and they jumped into bed, along with Lady, and they had their very first manage a trois. Or trey. Or trio. Or three-party, or whatever you want to shout out it. Katy and Dillon made loud, passionate love life, but for the most part, gentlewoman just watched.

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