notation : This is a body of work of fiction, effect and characters are a product of author 's imagination. The merely two characters who have sex are over 20 years of age.

FOR C.J.

Early on Tuesday morning, Dillon's cell headphone rang and woke him out of a dead eternal sleep. It was too early to take in a call, and way too early for the rude awakening his ringtone was blaring from the nightstand next to his bed : The introduction of Won't Get Fooled Again by The Who. No one in their right mind calls this betimes. Why didn't I turn this red cent sound off last 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 telephone set. He knew his don would never call him unless he suspected him of stealing his golf clubs.

"good morning, Honey,"his female parent said.

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

"I know beloved, but I have to pass on for piece of 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 mother sat in phone muteness for a long moment. Finally, he asked,"When ?"

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

Another extended intermission.

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

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

"poor people Katy,"he repeated.

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

"Yes, Mom, Thank You. And please detect 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 correctly thing to do ?"

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

-- --

Dillon grew up in a small, split-level house in a suburban, middle-class neighborhood. Just him, his sister Irene, who was two age younger, and his parents, Tanya and Miles. The textbook nuclear menage. 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 veracious thing to do at the time, considering the lot he faced. He thought if he moved away, someplace where nonentity knew him, he could spend his days living his life sentence instead of trying to survive his past.

When Dillon was a boy, a youthful couple moved in next door to them. The new neighbor, Katy and Cliff, were Cy Young marrieds in their twenties, and despite the fact that they were nine or ten geezerhood untested than his parents, they all soon became good neighbor and protagonist. And Dillon liked his new neighbour almost instantly. Because of Lady.

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

Dillon fell in dearest 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 sustain thrown her muddy tennis balls a million times, and she happily ran them down and returned them to him, and softly dropped them at his feet.

Dillon became the next-door-neighbor-all-around help to Katy and cliff. He tended to gentlewoman of course, but also took maintenance of many other task to realise a petty money. He helped in the yard, weeded their garden, cleaned the deck, shoveled their driveway when it snowed, fed their Pisces the Fishes when they were away, among early things. Cliff traveled for his job, so oftentimes Katy was alone during the week and Dillon was a big help.

When Katy became pregnant, Dillon was nine years old and got a dash course on the birds and the bees and soon became her right-hand man. He helped her out as much as he could when drop wasn't around. Whenever he noticed her pulling into her drive, he'd run over and dribble her packages or groceries or whatever else she had, inside for her. She worked as a real estate agent, so she was always lugging a bag full-of-the-moon of newspaper publisher and files.

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

"Do you want a boy or a young lady ?"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 month. When Katy finally gave birth, she had a petty boy. He was named after his Padre. Clifford Jnr. Katy called him C.J. from the starting time. But it did not change state out to be the happy, blessed consequence everyone was expecting.

Before long it became obvious that something was not right hand with the little boy, and after umpteen tests and referrals and MD and appeal and fits of angst and depression and optimism and hopelessness, they learned that their valued minuscule boy had powerful muscular dystrophy. And it wasn't the run-of-the-mill, everyday muscular dystrophy, which was bad enough, but it was the ugly, ruthless, wickedness, black sheep cousin of M.D., the one that guaranteed a short life. Duchenne syndrome, they called it. C.J. was a very purge niggling boy.

-- --

After the phone song from his mother, Dillon went to forge 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 idea were far away. About the only matter he accomplished was to put to take a couple Clarence Day off so he could go back household, or what was once his home, and attend the funeral.

He got back to his flat that night, ate a grill cheese sandwich and a bowling ball of soup for dinner, and did a load of laundry. He was glad his roomy wasn't around because he wasn't in the mood to chit-chat. He had just started to pack a bag for the trip when his mother called and told him the funeral programme. There would be wake on each of the adjacent two dark, Wed and Thursday, and the funeral would be Fri morning. He decided he would work Wed, and drive there on Thursday for the wake. If all went well he could pay heed the funeral on Friday, and have the weekend to gossip with his folks and maybe a friend or two.

-- --

The first few years of C.J.'s spirit were a steady parade of doctor's offices, examination, grim word and hopes for a miracle. It put a great strain on Katy and cliff of course, and their matrimony began to suffer. Katy was a firm mom, but her sorrowfulness was a weightiness that became harder and harder to disguise. Cliff had a terrible metre coping with having a terminally-ill child, as if his sperm were the case of it and somehow made him less of a man. He appeared embarrassed and ashamed, and never bonded with his son. He traveled more and more, and fuddle more and more, distancing himself, trying to diminish the pain sensation and despair. As C.J. was growing up, his dad was not a great deal of a factor. His parents eventually separated, got back together, separated again. Wash, rinse, Repeat.

Dillon continued doing the chores Katy asked him to do, often with C.J. sitting in his wheelchair on the hinder deck, watching him. He'd always arrive at a degree to sit with C.J. for a while, and they would blab about things. A lot of thing. Especially sports.

Dillon was amazed with C.J.'s cognition of sports, especially baseball game and football. Although he'd never play the games, even at the age of six or seven C.J. knew the rule and all the players and their figure and their stats and where they'd gone to college, and he asked smart dubiousness. He knew the histories of the sports, facts and events from way before his fourth dimension, poppycock of which Dillon had no clue. female parent Nature had given C.J. a badly-damaged dead body, but she had also given him a brilliant and curious mind.

By the clip Dillon was a senior in heights school, he was a principal on the baseball game team. Katy would convey C.J. to all the home biz and would park his wheelchair in the special point the team had reserved for him, where he'd root for his team. The players would get along over to him and say hi, and considered him the team mascot and their number one fan.

Over the year Dillon had spent hundreds and hundred of hours doing task for Katy, and disbursal clock time talking with her and C.J. As a result, he came to agnize two very of import thing.

One, C.J. was not just an unfortunate person, incapacitate kid who happened to live side by side door. No, he was much more than that. He was smart, he was witty, and despite everything he'd been through, he was a well-chosen child. He was a protagonist. A close champion. Like the fiddling comrade he'd never had.

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

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

He didn't act on his desires, of track. Why would a mid-thirties, semi-married cleaning lady with a ill tike be interested in an xviii 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 bodily process. He partied and slept with various girls. But when he came home for vacation or summer vacation, he would always spend time next room access with Katy and C.J.

When Dillon came plate for the summertime after his soph year of college, he was twenty years old. He went next door to chitchat, and learned that the Doctor of the Church had placed C.J. in a treatment quickness for a few days for another battery of tests. That's when his social function with Katy began.

-- --

It was a five hour driving. Dillon didn't remember most of it, which kind of scared him. He had no recollection of miles and Swedish mile of main road 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 view ? 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 habitation 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 feeding bottle of nail polish from the passenger keister. neon Purple. 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 thick breathing spell, straightened his tie, opened the door, got out, retrieved his sport coat from the sweetener above the backseat window, and walked to the building.

-- --

Dillon got home on a Th afternoon in late May after completing his sophomore year of college. In a week or two he'd welcome his class and officially be a junior. He would be nursing home for three months, and would start his summer job in a few daylight. After dinner with his parents, he noticed that Katy's car still was not parked in her driveway next door. It hadn't been there earlier when he'd go dwelling house, which was not unusual, but Katy always made a point to have C.J.'s dinner party ready at the same time every night, and now it was well past that time. He looked out the window periodically, checking for Katy's car. At a little after nine o'clock he noticed that her car was now in her driveway. It was getting a bit belatedly for a social call, but when he saw the light go on in the den, he figured what the hell, he'd go over and say hi.

When Katy opened the door, he could narrate right away that something was wrong. Her blond hair was bunched into a moolah bollock atop her head, her blouse was wrinkled, her lean nerve looked stressed along with her trite 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 tears. Dillon didn't know what to say, but instinctively took her into his implements of war and hugged her. That was a first, but he held her tightly, felt the curves of her body laborious against his. She hugged him back, put her head against his shoulder joint, and cried harder. He let her cry.

When her tears subsided they went into the den. They sat on the couch, slope by side. Katy explained that C.J. had had an fire of some form and couldn't breathe. She called 911. He was back in the infirmary. More trial run, more scans, More Doctor. She was a skittish wreck and scared shitless. Dillon tried to calm down 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 round off nails. All of her nails were painted black, except one : Her right little finger was purple. He'd always been curious about this habit of hers, this purpurate little finger. He'd noticed it many clip, and no subject whether the rest of her nails were polished or not, her right pinky always was, and always stood out in bright purpleness.

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

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

"Of course. The Ravens."

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

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

Katy shook her head."My poor footling 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 opening. Neither said anything for a while. When her teardrop abated she wiped her cheek with her fingertips.

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

"It's OK. I'm gladiolus I'm here."

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

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

"I know."She hesitated, played with his finger's breadth."But I feel so alone. I can't commend the hold out clip I felt good. About anything."

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

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

Rubbery, was his first thought. Soft. Sensual. Not like to the highest degree of the hard-lipped, forced college girl kisses he'd had. Really Nice, felt natural. His sass lingered on hers for a bit before he backed away. Her center were wide, two unintimidated rung consortium, 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 blue, it's okay,"she replied, and gently pulled his mitt toward her."I like it. It felt good. I want to sense good."Her finger laced mysterious into his. She took a deep breathing spell and said,"Do it again."

Dillon tightened his grip on her berm, dug in, made sure she felt it. He pulled her to him and their upper organic structure touched, then melded. His hired man went to her titty and he thumbed her starchy nipple through the unconvincing fabrics of her blouse and bra. When he put his cheek to hers, Katy's lips parted immediately and her tongue slithered into his backtalk. She slued around to face him, pulled him close, front-on-front, their bodies flush now, giving her tongue deeper profoundness. Dillon sucked her clapper, which was swirling like a lizard in his mouth. He felt her mammilla firmly against his chest of drawers, her arms around him, and her leg looped over his. The kiss went on, a duet of clapper, until saliva oozed between their lips and their groyne were on senior high school alert.

When their mouths finally separated, Katy peppered Dillon's expression with osculate mess, saying,"I need this. I want this."She pivoted her body, straddled his legs, sat on his lap, facing him. She felt his dick hard against her fork. She kissed him again with spread out lips, her tongue on a rampage, two thirsty mouths screwing while she ground her agglomerate onto his swollen prick and pressed her stoked bosom against his bureau. The buss went on, their manus roamed on backs and tooshie, he was hard, she was wet.

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

She unsaddled him, rose up, took his deal and led him to the bedroom. The chamber where by this sentence, now being more or less separated from her hubby, she slept alone. Standing beside the queen bed, they kissed. She admired his bighearted look, all-embracing berm and slim, gymnastic dead body as she unbuttoned and unzipped him, top to bottom. Dillon returned the favor.

Naked, their consistency plunged onto the bed. Katy's rima oris was edacious, attacking his, sucking his spit into her mouthpiece. Her agile men and fingerbreadth squeezed his ass, surrounded his hammer. Dillon followed along, but painting by numbers.

He suddenly realized that he was in way over his school principal. What to do ?, he wondered. This is a mature woman, not some dumb college broad with no more experience than he. He wanted to please her, he had to. He decided to film mastery, beak up the pace. pushing, abrasion, overdoing.

"Hey,"Katy said warmly, running her fingers through his short, chocolate-brown hairsbreadth."Take it easy. Take your time. We have all night."

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

She did. She kissed him, held it for a bit, her lithesome back talk hypnotizing him. With her hands on either incline of his headspring, she guided it downward until her bozo was in his face. She fingered her clitoris in movement of his face.

"Here,"she said."Put your mouth here. clout it, kiss it, eat it, suck it, but go on your mouth there. You'll know."

Dillon dove in. He took her swollen fruit into his mouth, molded his lips around it, tasted it with piano caresses, and she hissed when he slipped his glossa inside her. He planted his script under the nerve of her ass and held tight, mashing brass to twat. He explored her hungry, squirmy cunt with his tongue, and savored her wet, salty Fucus serratus. He kept at it, stayed down there, and wouldn't come up for air until he'd fix what he was after.

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

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

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

She pulled his head up to hers and kissed him, tasted her cum in his lip. As they kissed, his dead body atop hers, she wrapped her hand around his cock and fed it into her slushy cunt. It slid into her with slick comfort, balls deep.

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

She wrapped her leg around his care tentacles and squeezed, tightening like a boa, as if to get every last free fall of succus from a lemon tree. Dillon took the not-so-subtle speck. He clenched her bum in his manus and started drilling her.

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

It went on, and on, their crotch colliding on a quest for passing, and they kissed as they fucked. Dillon was going to dump a freight of his cum into this beautiful, mature woman, he knew that, but he slowed for a time, not wanting to mess up his top too soon. Her pleasure would come before his.

Two sweaty body throbbing. Two mouths and tongues plastered together. Two hands clenching two rump cheek, 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 inundation, barely less than her low. She pinched his cock with her out-of-shape cunt brawn and dug her fingertips into his upper back. Dillon banged her harder for four or five thwacks and his pulsating circle of cum vaulted into her.

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

"That was wondrous,"she said.

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

"Oh, please…"

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

"Really ?"

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

"What's funny ?"Katy asked.

"tunny fish."

"tuna fish Fish is funny remark ? Why ? Don't you like it ?"

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

"Um, I guess so."

"I mean, we say bluefish or rock-and-roll fish because those words have different import. But there's no other meaning for tuna, so why add the fish to it ? We don't say ‘ flounder fish'or ‘ Melanogrammus aeglefinus fish'or ‘ trout Pisces the Fishes ’. We don't say ‘ hamburger cow ’, or ‘ pork chop pig ’. So why do we say tuna Fish ?"

"I really couldn't tell you Dillon,"she said."Maybe it's the same reason we don't say ‘ fish chopper ’."

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

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

She went down on him and took his cock into her mouth. She slipped her midriff digit 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 oral fissure on the bedspread, got up and put on a robe.

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

After they ate their sandwiches and bit, they fucked again. Then it was getting late, and Katy suggested that Dillon leave so that no rumors got started, no matter 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 purloin over late at night, long after C.J. was asleep. They would make love 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 former August. They were in the middle of a impassioned soixante-neuf when a drunken Cliff showed up unannounced and caught them in the act. He went ballistic, screaming, throwing matter, breaking things, calling them public figure, threatening them. He chased a half-clothed Dillon out of the house, screaming at him, told him to ‘ get the hell out before I kill you ’.

Cliff made for certain the unit neighborhood and half the Ithiel Town knew all about it. Millie, the neighborhood scuttlebutt had a field day. Katy and Dillon were shamed and ridiculed, she was a bum and he was a steamy college slit who couldn't maintain his shaft in his pant. Dillon's parents were greatly embarrassed too, which didn't help him at home, and didn't help their relationship with their neighbour.

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

-- --

Standing on the covered porch of the funeral home, Dillon took another long, rich breath before he opened the smoke-cured glass room access and entered. He walked tentatively through the vestibule and down the hall, passing several citizenry he didn't recognize, until he found the right room. He signed the guest book outside the door, then entered.

He scanned the crowded room and didn't see any companion faces at first, but soon sensed a cool vibe. The intuitive feeling of eyes upon him, heads turning quickly away when he glanced at them. He looked around, searching for Katy but not finding her, feeling self-conscious, like he was in a goldfish bowl. Then a male representative to his left broke his concentration.

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

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

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

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

drop-off wobbled away and Dillon eyed the far end of the room. He spotted Katy off to the English, standing in forepart of a wall 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 animal foot away from her.

It had been nearly four years, but suddenly the import of the phrase ‘ a visual modality for sore eyes'hit him like a lightning bolt. She still looked incredible. Tired, but strong and beautiful. She wore a long-sleeved black dress that hugged her slim trope. Her blonde hair was whipped back in a french twist, and her earrings matched the color of her bright blue eyes.

He stood there, taking her in. Once she saw him, their eye locked. The couple she was talking to noticed it, looked at him, then back at her, and faded away. They held their gaze for a long, frozen moment, forgetful to the watcher in the room. Dillon raised his right hand, with his purple-nailed pinkie extended. Katy did the same with her right hand, the bright purple brilliantly contrasting the black polish on the rest of her nails. There was a sad smile on her face. The looker were amused and confused by the gestures.

He walked toward her, right into her arms. The several Edgar Guest watched their tightly-wrapped bodies as they hugged. Dillon felt the bullet train of her titty against him, and whiffed the smell of fresh fruit in her hair. Their trunk clenched and their weeping flowed. They didn't want to let go.

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

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

"I know. He loved you too."

"I'm so sorry."

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

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

They finally broke their bosom and Katy took his hand and led him over to the casket. They looked down at C.J., whose case was wan with a slight trace 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 baseball team.

"It seemed only ripe that he wear his baseball jersey,"Katy said."It was his pet small-arm of wear. He treasured it."

Dillon put his arm around her again, pulled her close as his crying dripped down his cheeks. They stood there together until his rip abated. They stepped away, off into a recession 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 grade,"he said.

"Can I ask a party favour ?"

"Sure. Anything."

"It's a big one."

"What is it ?"

"Would you speak at the service ?"

"Really ? Me ?"

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

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

"Ex-husband,"she blurted."This is my display, don't worry about him. If he gives us any shit I'll send for the cops."

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

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

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

"I know you won't."

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

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

-- --

Dillon stayed at his parents'house that night, although he didn't public lecture to them much, only for a few minutes. He told them he'd been asked to speak at the funeral table service and he had to prepare. So he went to the give up bedroom with pen and paper and tried to write something down, something meaningful, but nada of substance would arrive. His thinker was a patchwork, adrift in his retentivity of C.J. There were too many experiences and conversations to absorb and devise. He was bone-tired, from the retentive drive, his lonely sorrow, and his sojourn to the fish bowl. He fell off to catch some Z's without accomplishing much.

He slept like lapidify Wood. He woke up early, refreshed, and jotted down a list of smoke compass point on three-by-five menu. He didn't know if he'd speak for two minutes or twenty. He trusted that his muse would shew up when the prison term was right.

Dillon walked into the funeral home twenty minutes early and was surprised at the transmutation the place had gone through in sixteen hours. The wall that had separated the viewing elbow room had disappeared and it was three or four times the sizing of the fishbowl he'd visited the night before. It was now one big way, like an auditorium, lined with rows and words of folding president on two sides separated by a center field aisle, ready to accommodate a large output. The crowd was trickling in. A dead tiddler was quite a draw.

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

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

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

Once the place was to the full and SRO, Katy was ushered down the aisle to the straw man row on the left side, and the show got on the road, right on time. cliff was seated on the mighty side, adjacent to a Danton True Young woman.

Dillon sat through the other part of the overhaul in a hazy daze. There were some remarks, then some music, then the Rev spoke for XV minutes or so, reciting * * * * * * * * * * * ure and all of the reserve, generic, cliched, God-has-a-plan mumbo jumbo. Then suddenly, he heard his name called.

He could almost feel the inhaled breaths of the hushed attendant on his goose-fleshed arms as he strode to the podium. Once there, he looked out at the packed house, impressed by the size of it. Every can was taken and others stood around the sides and back of the room. His hands sifted through the sac of his crown, shirt and trousers for his cue cards, but they were not to be found. He'd left them in his car, where he'd concluding rehearsed. He would consume to wing it.

He cleared his throat, adjusted the mike, raised it up. Took a deep breathing space. anxious 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 tumid group, all here to pay your obedience, 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 starting with that.

"When I was a boy, Katy and drop moved into the house following room access to my family. We could narrate right away that they were great people and would be big neighbors, and my family quickly accepted them into the neighborhood and into our lives. They both worked full-time and drop-off traveled a lot, so I would do odd chore for them. I'd wash their cars, cut their supergrass and weed their garden in the summer, shovel their private road when it snowed, take care of their dog and give their Fish when they were away, anything to earn a few dollars.

"After C.J. was born, and it became clear that he was not a normal, healthy child, but instead had an ugly, foul disease, most of their time was devoted to his special needs, his doctor naming, his medical checkup tests, his intervention, et cetera. Gradually, I was asked to do more and more than chores around their business firm and place because they just didn't have the meter. I mended fencing, washed Windows, cleaned out rain toilet, raked leaves, stained the deck of cards, you name it.

"As C.J. got older, he would sit outside in his wheelchair, on the front porch or on the pack of cards out in the spinal column railyard, and he'd watch me do work. And we would talk. We talked a lot. And by the clock time I was in my teens and C.J. was six years old, I realized that mother Nature may cause given him an unhealthy soundbox, but at the Saami fourth dimension she had given him a brilliant young mind.

"We talked about many things, especially sports. baseball and football were his favorites. The Baltimore Ravens were his favorite team, The Purple annoyance. That's the rationality for the purple nail polish."

He raised his the right way pinkie for all to see.

"Even at that young age, he could show at a pretty high up level and he impressed me with his intelligence. His wit, his vocabulary, his noesis. He knew every role player, knew their numbers and their stats and their heights and weighting and where they went to college. He would get me and surprise me with historic facts about the players and the teams and the sports, material 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 remember thinking, how can this little guy, whose body was so weak, be so unattackable ? I began to realize that C.J. was not just the kid next threshold, not just some young admirer. 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 startle and play ball with early kids, and have to use a wheelchair ? He looked down for a here and now, then up at me. And with traces of weeping in his heart, he said, ‘ No, I don't get mad. But I get sad sometimes. Sad because it is so hard on my parents. I hate being such a burden to them ’. Even with all the adversity he'd faced in his life 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 heights shoal and he followed my teams like he did the pros, and we talked about every game. In the spring of my senior year, as my baseball team was in grooming for the upcoming time of year, C.J., who was nine or ten years old by this time, told me he was going to descend to all the home plate games and base for our team. I don't know if I believed that that would really bump or not, but I went to see my four-in-hand a few days before our first gear game. 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, and how much he liked our team, and I'd like to generate him a hat. double-decker said, Hell, Dillon, you don't need to pay for it, and he not only gave me a hat, but gave me a altogether squad uniform, the minuscule 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 work force, and fondled the letters on the breast of the NJ, he treasured it. And that season, Katy made sure he made it to every home biz. manager cleared a special box adjacent to our pirogue and the viewpoint, just for him, and to fit his wheelchair, and you could see the joy on his font when the actor and coaches would come over to sway his hand and say Hi to him. He came to every home game that time of year, dressed in his uniform and cap, to root us on. He is wearing that very same jersey today.

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

"fountainhead, I felt the emotion raise up in me like a gaudy flood. All I did was win a ball game. But I thought of all he had been through in his young life history, and of all the strong point and doggedness he had to have every single day, just to get through it all. I was on the scepter of rip. I told him thank you, and that I was proud of him too. But I don't know if he knew how truly majestic of him I was, or how much I respected him, and loved him. I hope he knows that, and knows how a great deal I've missed him.

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

"I should have told him that I loved him. I regret that. I never told him that I loved him. But I did. And I always will. He was my friend, my short brother. This humanity could use a few more people like C.J."

You could feature heard a pin drop as Dillon left the podium with all eyes upon him. He was choked up, full of emotion, the tears were bubbling in his eyes, but he'd somehow gotten through it. He glanced at Katy as he walked back to his stern. 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 quietus of the service, which was a blur of words, music, and a supplication. Afterwards, he stood outside the funeral rest home, chatting with his parents and his sister Irene. In a topic of proceedings, three different people came up to him and congratulated him on his paean. One said it was the best he'd ever heard.

Dillon and his fellowship went to Katy's mansion afterwards for some food and acculturation and condolences, but they didn't stay too long. But they were there long enough for Cliff to come up to Dillon and actually apologize, and to compliment and give thanks him for his eulogy. As they were about to leave, Katy pulled him aside and asked him to fare 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 musical accompaniment, suddenly realized she might not be needed."You're going to go to bed with him, aren't you ?"she said.

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

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

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

-- --

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

They were in the living elbow room, to the left hand of the vestibule. Sonia was seated in an gentle death chair facing Katy, who was on the couch. Mellow jazz was playing softly. Katy patted the couch shock absorber to her left field, and Dillon took a seat next to her.

"Good timing,"Sonia said."We just made a pitcher 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 Edgar Guest. Katy was happy with the way everything had gone, especially pleased that drop-off had behaved himself. She then recapped for Dillon the high spot and lowlights of her divorcement. She was relieved she would not have to consider with drop-off again.

When the pitcher was vacuous, Sonia excused herself."Well, I'm going to bend 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 actor's line, Dillon,"Katy said, after Sonia left. She took his hired hand in hers, the first clock time they'd touched since he'd arrived."It was so real, and so tender. Everyone was in tears."

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

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

Nothing was said for a while. They just sat here, their dead body flush, their hand clasped, listening to subdued music, cherishing the simple pleasure of being together after so long. Katy nestled against him, Dillon rested his cheek against her hair and breathed in her luscious, long-lost scent.

"This is nice,"Katy said, after some time. Then she raised her top dog, turned to look at him, and after a fleeting pause, kissed him.

Their lips parted and their hungry mouths went into overdrive, the once-familiar tongues becoming reacquainted. In a heartbeat, their dead body turned and meshed and their arms locked around each early. Dillon felt her breast against his chest and pushed his hardening cock against her, and as if they were in a prison term car, they instantly picked up where they'd left off long ago.

"You know,"she said, as Dillon sucked her earlobe,"I know it sounds crazy, and I know it's been four geezerhood, but as soon as I laid eyes on you at the funeral home concluding Night, I wanted you."

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

"arrest with me tonight,"she said.

"Are you sure ?"He kissed her neck.

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

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

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

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

"Good."

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

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

They rose and Katy led him by his handwriting to her bedroom, shutting the room access behind them. They tore their wearing apparel off as they french-kissed, each savoring the taste of the other.

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

It all came back in an moment. He knew exactly what she liked, and all of her sweet-flavored spots. She moaned with his touch and her dead body was soon writhing and wouldn't stop. He kissed her quivering thigh. He traced his lingua along the inside of her moistened lower lips, before plunging it inside her. Katy squeaked with pleasance, and Dillon drunk in the smell and taste of her, like a sip of aplomb sweetwater after four yr in the desert.

He sucked her clit into his backtalk, and just like the old 24-hour interval, Katy fell into the sway and fucked his fount with a cycle matching his. It was as if no prison term had passed.

Dillon's hired man slithered under her cigarette, his fingertips dug into her crack, and he squeezed.

"Ugh,"Katy groaned. She had her thumbs in his ears and her fingers webbed around the back of his point as he ate her.

Dillon hummed a slack tune into her twat, played her button like a kazoo. Katy groaned loudly and squirmed some more. When she felt his finger enter her asshole her slit was about to explode.

It didn't take long for her to do the first time. It had been a long while since she'd had sex and her loins were trigger glad. And Dillon knew how to drive all her push button 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 butch broke. He felt the wet, lovesome hurry of her saved-up cum surround his tongue and rinse his face, and he tasted her juicy funk again, finally. He never thought this would bechance again, but here they were. A idea flowed through his mind briefly as he lapped up her juices. He thought how he could never, ever get more informal with a char than he was at that moment : Her clitoris in his mouth, his finger up her ass, her cum on his look. But it was a momentary thought. His dick was swollen and hard and achy. It was time to fuck.

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

No problem. Dillon was fix to snap. But he didn't want to rush matter. He wanted to create it last, throw it beautiful. He kissed her, slid his helping hand back under her ass. He lingered, took his clip, kissing her with his cock inside her and his fingerbreadth once again feeling their means around her lovely posterior. He wanted to fuck 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 time, kissing, smiling, only gradually picking up upper. Dillon knew he would have to come soon, so he picked up his gait 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 prick rammed her ripe twat.

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

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

"Yeah, child, have it to me. Give it to me."

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

She squealed when she felt the slug up her rear end. Then she bellowed, ugh…ugh…ugh… with each of his thrusts.

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

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

*

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

In the midsection of the night, Dillon woke up and walked into the bathroom adjacent to the sea captain bedroom. He closed the door and turned on the light source. His sassing was dry, and tasted funky. He found some gargle under the sink and took a swig, squished it around and spit it into the sink. He turned on the faucet, ran the piddle onto his hands and scooped a beverage from his ribbon. He splashed his face and dried it. He raised the toilet seat and took a leak, then lowered the hindquarters. He flushed, hoping he wouldn't wake Katy.

But Katy was awake. She'd stirred when he got out of bed, watched his sexy shape as he walked to the bathroom, watched the door close and the Christ Within ejaculate on. She heard the water system running, then the audio of him pissing. The toilet flushed, the spigot was running again. She reached over and felt around in the drawer of her nightstand and found what she was looking for. She popped the top on the tube and squeezed, rubbed the greasy stuff all over her hands, and fingered herself.

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

"ass me,"she whispered.

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

Katy reached down between her legs and stroked her clitoris, which was already swollen with first moment. As Dillon began fucking her, she pulled her trigger harder and harder, wanting to mate his cause and come big when he did.

Dillon broke a promiscuous sweat as he propelled his prick in and out of her. It had been four long years since he'd buttfucked her, but he was now in a State Department of rapture. As his clay, slippery cock sledded in and out of her, and he felt the firm, hot pressure of her perfect ass around it, he felt like he was finally home.

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

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

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

Dillon gave it to her. His physical structure 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 inch rivet up her ass.

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

The sun was up when they woke later that break of day. They said trade 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 crude contrast to their raunchy, middle-of-the-night assfuck. They made slow, precious erotic love, taking the time to evince their attentions to every corner and chap and cleavage and orifice of their bodies. Afterward, they held each early in silence. No words were necessary.

But Dillon was thinking. He was thinking about how it was Sat morning and he would have one Thomas More day with Katy before he left to beat back back to his flat and his job. He was thinking that he didn't go rest home last-place night and his family would eff why. He was thinking about Millie, and how the gossiper grind was probably already turning. Katy was the first-class honours degree one to speak, breaking the silence and interrupting his thoughts, but practically reading his mind.

"Move in with me,"she said.

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

"I said, move in with me."

"Move in with you ? What, here ?"

"Of course, here. Where else ?"

"Really ?"

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

"No, it's not that. It's just…I live and oeuvre three hundred sea mile from here."

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

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

"So, what's the job ?"

"No job. Just unexpected, I guess. Are you sure as shooting about this ?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Dillon. It's not an offer I'd shit to just anyone, and not without careful consideration. I've thinking about it over and over."She got out of bed, stood up, looked down at him."I'm sure. And do you love why I'm for sure ? I'm sure because I've spent so much time thinking about you and missing you and I feel like I've waited four years for you. You make me finger 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 bath, leaving the door open. He heard her turn on the shower. He laughed quietly to himself. Something that he'd view about for twelvemonth, something that he thought could never find, was happening. He got off the bed and walked into the lavatory. He slid the cascade door aside and stepped in beside her. Katy's tits were covered with soap.

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

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

"You were ?"

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

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

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

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

"I love you, Dillon."

Dillon moved under the atomizer and they kissed, a inscrutable, wet wing-dinger, as the urine pounded them.

"So, how did you get over the fear ?"he asked."What made you adjudicate to tell 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 ripe and I just hadn't admitted it yet. I knew I had to do something before you got away again."

They kissed and ran their wet, soapy digit over their wet, soapy torso, and before you could say ‘ I'm hard again ’, Dillon was hard again. Less than a half hour after they'd made erotic love in bed, they made dearest again in the shower. With their mouths plastered together, and his hands cupped under her butt joint, and her legs wrapped around his waist, and his dick late inside her, and her dorsum against the tile wall, they fucked for the world-class sentence as committed lovers, and they came in an echoed unison of orgasms just as the water system pouring down upon them ran cold.

-- --

It was deep dayspring by the time Katy and Dillon made their way to the kitchen in search of food. There was a distinction from Sonia on the kitchen tabular array. She was gone. The marrow of the note was that by the sounds she'd heard coming out of Katy's bedroom, she knew that Katy would be delicately without her hanging around. She wished them the best.

The rest of the weekend was a nonstop love-in. They rarely left the bedroom. They had too 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 side by side room access neighbor.

He left at four a.m. on Mon so he would get to the situation on time. He had a busy day planned. In gain to several assignment, he had to type up his letter of resignation and give his two-week notice. His supervisor was surprised when he told him he was leaving, but couldn't offer to relocate him. That was amercement with Dillon ; Katy had said she would discover out when and where the real landed estate courses were being given so he could hit the ground running when he got back.

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

He had no problem getting out of his apartment. His roomy's girl had been staying over a lot anyway, and now she could just travel in and take his place. It worked out for the best for all of them.

-- --

Early on Sabbatum morning, the day after his last day at workplace, Dillon packed his car with as much of his stuff as he could fit into the car, the trunk, and tied to the roof rails, and hit the road, and made that long, lonely drive for the last-place time. He spent most of the five time of day in deep cerebration, thinking about Katy, and all the tight things they were going to do when he got there. It was mid-afternoon by the clip he got to Katy's family, and he didn't know it, but he was in for a big surprisal. He was soon to discover out that he and Katy would not be living in the house alone.

Katy was waiting for him. She'd been looking out the window every five minutes for over an hour. When he pulled into the driveway, she emerged onto the front 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 arms."Just in example there are any neighbour watching, let's give them something to babble about."

She kissed him, jamming her tongue into his mouth. Wrapped in four weapon system, they shared one of the foresightful, cryptic candy kiss they'd ever had. When they finally ended the kiss, they were laughing.

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes. Do you like three-ways ?"

"Do I like three-ways ? What do you have in mind ?"

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

Dillon felt like he'd just driven five hours into the Twilight zona.

"You're into that ?"

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

"You have ?"

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

In a daze he followed her to the node chamber at the far end of the Charles Francis Hall. Katy opened the door and went into the room, Dillon was right field behind. Then he saw her.

She was lying on the bed, on top of a muddle of blanket. 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, lily-white German language Shepherd 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.

"peeress ! What else ?"

Katy picked up a small gift-wrapped package off of the dresser and handed it to him. He ripped it overt. It was a pink and blue collar with an tie heart-shaped tag that had ‘ Lady'etched into it.

"Ah, you knew."

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

"What a 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 manner of walking and share her beauty with the neighborhood ? It'll helper get the rumor James Mill cranked up."

"Sounds like a plan."

So they put Lady's nail around her neck and hooked up her ternion, and they took a leisurely stroll 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 noblewoman, and they had their very first contend a trois. Or threesome. Or troika. Or three-way, or whatever you want to call up it. Katy and Dillon made garish, passionate love, but for the most component, Lady just watched.

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