Note : This is a work of fiction, event and lineament are a product of author 's imagination. The merely two characters who have sex are over 20 eld of age.

FOR C.J.

Early on Tues morning, Dillon's cell phone rang and woke him out of a dead sleep. It was too early to take a call, and way too early for the rude awakening his ringtone was blaring from the nightstand next to his bed : The presentation of Won't Get Fooled Again by The Who. No one in their right mind calls this early. Why didn't I turn this damn earphone off last night ?, he wondered. But he was peculiar and looked at the sound. The vociferation was coming from a phone number he recognized. It was the landline in the house where he grew up. So he answered.

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

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

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

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

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

"C.J. died."

Dillon's heart sank. He and his female parent sat in telephone silence for a foresighted moment. Finally, he asked,"When ?"

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

Another reach out suspension.

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

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

"poor people Katy,"he repeated.

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

"Yes, Mom, Thank You. And please find out the funeral transcription 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 flop affair to do ?"

"It's the only if affair to do. I have to."

-- --

Dillon grew up in a meek, split-level theater in a suburban, middle-class neighborhood. Just him, his sister Irene, who was two years vernal, and his parents, Tanya and Miles. The schoolbook nuclear family. His parents still lived there. Dillon now lived in a Town three hundred miles from there. He had moved away several years before under somewhat of a cloud. He thought it was the right thing to do at the time, considering the portion he faced. He thought if he moved away, someplace where nobody knew him, he could spend his days living his aliveness instead of trying to outlive his past.

When Dillon was a boy, a vernal couple moved in next door to them. The new neighbour, Katy and drop, were Danton True Young marrieds in their twenties, and despite the fact that they were nine or ten years young than his parents, they all soon became good neighbor and supporter. And Dillon liked his new neighbour almost instantly. Because of Lady.

peeress was a striking, beautiful white German Shepherd. Katy and drop-off 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 place to heal. They ran ads for workweek, trying to feel Lady's owner. No response. They were okay with that. By then, they loved Lady, and noblewoman loved them.

Dillon fell in love with Lady. She was the dog he'd always wished he'd had. He walked her, he hugged her, he rubbed her belly, and he played with her. He must have thrown her boggy tennis balls a million times, and she happily ran them down and returned them to him, and softly dropped them at his foot.

Dillon became the next-door-neighbor-all-around helper to Katy and drop-off. He tended to ma'am of course, but also took guardianship of many other task to make a piffling money. He helped in the yard, weeded their garden, cleaned the pack of cards, shoveled their drive when it snowed, fed their Fish when they were away, among other affair. cliff traveled for his job, so oftentimes Katy was alone during the week and Dillon was a big help.

When Katy became fraught, Dillon was nine long time old and got a doss course of instruction on the razz 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 transport her packages or grocery or whatever else she had, inside for her. She worked as a real estate agent, so she was always lugging a bag wax of written document and files.

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

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

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

They bonded over those expectant months. When Katy finally gave nativity, she had a piddling boy. He was named after his father. Clifford Junior. Katy called him C.J. from the start. But it did not turn out to be the well-chosen, blessed event everyone was expecting.

Before foresightful it became obvious that something was not right with the little boy, and after umpteen tests and referrals and doctors and orison and fits of angst and depression and optimism and hopelessness, they learned that their cute picayune boy had muscular muscular dystrophy. And it wasn't the run-of-the-mill, unremarkable 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 sick little boy.

-- --

After the phone call from his female parent, Dillon went to work that day and went through the motility for eight time of day. 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 centre and creative thinker were far away. About the solely thing he accomplished was to arrange to take a duet days off so he could go back base, or what was once his nursing home, and attend the funeral.

He got back to his apartment that night, ate a broiled Malva sylvestris sandwich and a bowl of soup for dinner, and did a load of laundry. He was happy his roomie wasn't around because he wasn't in the modality to gossip. He had just started to pile a bag for the trip when his mother called and told him the funeral architectural plan. There would be viewings on each of the next two night, Wednesday and Thursday, and the funeral would be Friday first light. He decided he would work Midweek, and drive there on Th for the viewing. If all went well he could hang the funeral on Friday, and have the weekend to visit with his folks and maybe a friend or two.

-- --

The get-go few years of C.J.'s biography were a steady parade of medico's bureau, test, macabre news and hope for a miracle. It put a neat strain on Katy and Cliff of grade, and their marriage began to suffer. Katy was a strong mom, but her gloominess was a exercising weight that became harder and grueling to disguise. Cliff had a terrible time coping with having a terminally-ill shaver, as if his sperm were the cause of it and somehow made him less of a man. He appeared hinder and ashamed, and never bonded with his son. He traveled Thomas More and more, and drink in Sir Thomas More and more, distancing himself, trying to decrease the pain and despair. As C.J. was growing up, his dad was not much of a ingredient. His parents eventually separated, got back together, separated again. Wash, rinsing, Repeat.

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

Dillon was amazed with C.J.'s knowledge of play, especially baseball game and football. Although he'd never play the games, even at the age of six or seven C.J. knew the rules and all the player and their act 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 time, stuff of which Dillon had no clue. Mother Nature had given C.J. a badly-damaged body, but she had also given him a brilliant and curious mind.

By the metre Dillon was a aged in high schoolhouse, he was a lead on the baseball game team. Katy would bring C.J. to all the family game and would park his wheelchair in the exceptional stain the team had reserved for him, where he'd root word for his team. The thespian would come over to him and say hi, and considered him the team mascot and their number one fan.

Over the years Dillon had spent 100 and hundreds of minute doing job for Katy, and spending clip talking with her and C.J. As a consequence, he came to realize two very important things.

One, C.J. was not just an inauspicious, disabled kid who happened to live future 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 Quaker. A finis admirer. Like the little blood brother he'd never had.

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

He found himself admiring her fairly aspect, trim down trunk, firm white meat, and rigorous ass. And he always noticed her fingernails. They were always manicured and neatly polished, and regardless of what color she'd chosen for her early seven fingers and her two thumbs, her right pinky was always the same : Bright, fluorescent purple. It stood out like a beacon, and Dillon didn't know what it meant, but he liked it.

He didn't act on his desires, of trend. Why would a mid-thirties, semi-married char with a regorge fry be interested in an eighteen year old boy ? He tried to put her out of his brain. He went off to college and studied and got involved in a bit of natural action. He partied and slept with various lady friend. But when he came menage for holidays or summer holiday, he would always spend prison term next door with Katy and C.J.

When Dillon came dwelling house for the summertime after his soph year of college, he was twenty eld old. He went next door to visit, and learned that the MD had placed C.J. in a treatment facility for a few Clarence Day for another electric battery of tests. That's when his affair with Katy began.

-- --

It was a five hour cause. Dillon didn't remember most of it, which kind of scared him. He had no recollection of miles and miles of main road that had disappeared into his rear view mirror. His thinker was focused on what lay ahead. How was Katy holding up ? Would Cliff produce a scenery ? How would the great unwashed respond when he showed up ? Would he be welcomed, or sneered at ? Would his parents be embarrassed, or would they support him ?

He'd timed matter perfectly. The viewing was scheduled for six- until eight p.m., and he pulled into the funeral abode parking lot at 6:30. He drove to the furthest end and parked his car. He sat, rested, waited. He reached to his right and picked up the low bottle of cop polish from the passenger rump. neon Purple. He shook it, uncapped it, and carefully applied it to the fingernail on his mightily pinky. He blew on it until it dried. Then he took a deep breath, straightened his tie, opened the door, got out, retrieved his sport coat from the crotchet above the backseat window, and walked to the building.

-- --

Dillon got home on a Thursday afternoon in late May after completing his sophomore year of college. In a hebdomad or two he'd obtain his form and officially be a Jr. He would be dwelling for three months, and would start his summertime job in a few Clarence Day. After dinner party with his parents, he noticed that Katy's car still was not parked in her drive next door. It hadn't been there earlier when he'd gotten house, which was not strange, but Katy always made a tip to get C.J.'s dinner party ready at the Saame 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 private road. It was getting a bit late for a social call, but when he saw the sparkle go on in the den, he figured what the snake pit, he'd go over and say hi.

When Katy opened the threshold, he could differentiate right away that something was wrong. Her blonde whisker was bunched into a loot orb atop her head, her blouse was wrinkled, her lean expression looked stressed along with her tired eyes.

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

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

When her bust subsided they went into the den. They sat on the couch, side 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 scan, more doctors. She was a skittish crash and scared shitless. Dillon tried to tranquilize her as best he could, tried to tell her. Cliff was not around, as usual.

He noticed he was holding her hand. He looked at her slender fingers, her milled nails. All of her nails were painted nigrify, except one : Her rightfulness little finger was purple. He'd always been singular about this habit of hers, this purple pinky. He'd noticed it many times, and no matter whether the residual of her nails were polished or not, her right pinky always was, and always stood out in bright purple.

"What's with the purple pinky ?"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 hand and pinky. She squeezed back.

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

"Of course. The Ravens."

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

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

Katy shook her header."My poor minuscule boy,"she blurted, and burst into another flood of tears.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They sat quietly for a bit. row escaped him. He nestled his cheek into her hair. It smelled good, like ripe melon vine. Then, by inherent aptitude, as if it were the most logical matter to do, he kissed the top of her head.

Katy raised up, turned her nous toward him, focused her hot Amytal heart onto his. Dillon's heart felt the suntan. Then, because it was the second-most-logical affair to do, he kissed her lips.

Rubbery, was his initiatory thought. Soft. Sensual. Not like most of the hard-lipped, forced college girl kisses he'd had. Really nice, felt natural. His mouth lingered on hers for a here and now before he backed away. Her center were wide, two unblinking one shot puddle, 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 wing to do that. Please forgive me."

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

Dillon tightened his grip on her shoulder, dug in, made indisputable she felt it. He pulled her to him and their upper bodies touched, then melded. His deal went to her chest and he thumbed her crocked pap 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 rima oris. She slued around to confront him, pulled him close, front-on-front, their torso flush now, giving her lingua deeper deepness. Dillon sucked her tongue, which was swirling like a lizard in his rima oris. He felt her nipple firmly against his chest, her subdivision around him, and her leg looped over his. The kiss went on, a yoke of tongues, until spit oozed between their brim and their groyne were on high alert.

When their mouthpiece finally separated, Katy peppered Dillon's face with buss mint, saying,"I need this. I want this."She pivoted her soundbox, straddled his legs, sat on his lap, facing him. She felt his dick hard against her crotch. She kissed him again with open sass, her tongue on a rampage, two thirsty backtalk screwing while she ground her hammock onto his swollen peter and pressed her stoked bosom against his chest. The kiss went on, their hands roamed on backs and butt joint, he was hard, she was wet.

"Let's go to bed,"she rasped with sawn-off 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 separated from her hubby, she slept alone. Standing beside the tabby bed, they kissed. She admired his handsome face, liberal shoulders and slim, athletic torso as she unbuttoned and unzipped him, top to penetrate. Dillon returned the favor.

Naked, their bodies plunged onto the bed. Katy's oral fissure was ravenous, attacking his, sucking his tongue into her mouth. Her nimble hands and fingers squeezed his ass, surrounded his cock. Dillon followed along, but painting by numbers.

He suddenly realized that he was in way over his head. What to do ?, he wondered. This is a senesce fair sex, not some mute college encompassing with no more experience than he. He wanted to please her, he had to. He decided to charter control, piece up the pace. Pushing, abrasion, overdoing.

"Hey,"Katy said warmly, running her fingers through his dead, brownish whisker."Take it slow. demand your metre. We have all night."

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

She did. She kissed him, held it for a bit, her lissom lips hypnotizing him. With her helping hand on either position of his chief, she guided it downward until her twat was in his human face. She fingered her clit in front of his face.

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

Dillon dove in. He took her puff up fruit into his mouth, molded his back talk around it, tasted it with soft caresses, and she hissed when he slipped his tongue inside her. He planted his hands under the cheeks of her ass and held tight, mashing font 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 acquire what he was after.

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

She shrieked when she came. Her cum streamed out of her. He felt her gush on his grimace, was surprised by its intensity, like none he'd experienced before. Katy was surprised too ; even though it had been a while, her body shook with the power of it, and she had an sexual climax like she'd not had in a retentive, recollective time, if ever.

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

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

"Fuck me,"she whispered into his ear."piece of tail me hard."

She wrapped her peg around his like tentacles and squeezed, tightening like a boa, as if to get every live drop of succus from a Citrus limon. Dillon took the not-so-subtle hint. He clenched her keister in his hands and started drilling her.

He was slinging it pretty good. His crotch was pounding hers and she was rolling with it, in sync, fucking right back at him, every inch of her torso into it. Their shag took on a staccato rhythm, like rim crack on a gin, smack scag smack scag, while the bed outflow played hi-hat.

It went on, and on, their genitals colliding on a quest for release, and they kissed as they fucked. Dillon was going to floor a load of his ejaculate into this beautiful, matured woman, he knew that, but he slowed for a time, not wanting to blow his top too soon. Her joy would come before his.

Two sweaty body throbbing. Two lip and lingua plastered together. Two hands clenching two fanny nerve, 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 surplus poke in his stroke. She moaned again, louder.

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

She came in another torrent, barely less than her first. She pinched his cock with her out-of-shape cunt muscles and dug her fingertips into his upper berth back. Dillon banged her harder for four or five thwacks and his pulsating ropes of cum vaulted into her.

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

"That was marvellous,"she said.

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

"Oh, please…"

"You have no idea 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 late into his optic, sighed, kissed his nose and said :"That's for sure."

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

*

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

It was only ten min later. His weaponry were still around her, and hers were around him. Their eyes were column inch apart.

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

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

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

"What's funny ?"Katy asked.

"Tuna fish."

"Opuntia tuna fish is singular ? 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 tuna with anything other than a Pisces. Know what I mean ?"

"Um, I guess so."

"I mean, we say bluefish or rock fish because those speech have dissimilar meanings. But there's no other meaning for tuna, so why add the fish to it ? We don't say ‘ flounder angle'or ‘ Melanogrammus aeglefinus fish'or ‘ trout fish ’. We don't say ‘ beefburger 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 rationality we don't say ‘ fish chop ’."

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

"Such a late mind you are,"she said, taking his peter in her paw."A deep thinker with another big erection."

She went down on him and took his cock into her mouth. She slipped her middle finger into his asshole and reamed him from behind as she sucked him. Within minutes Dillon grunted and bucked and came in spurts into Katy's lip 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 speculate on the heavy Opuntia tuna fish conundrum while I make us a couple sandwiches."

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

*

Their affair lasted to the highest degree of the summer. They had to be discreet, of course, so once or twice a hebdomad Dillon would abstract over late at nighttime, long after C.J. was numb. They would pass water bang as quietly as possible, and after they both came a couple times he would sneak back out.

No one suspected a thing until it all blew up one Sat night in former August. They were in the midriff of a fervid sixty-nine when a drunken drop-off showed up unannounced and caught them in the act. He went ballistic, screaming, throwing matter, breaking things, calling them names, threatening them. He chased a scantily clad Dillon out of the mansion, screaming at him, told him to ‘ get the hell out before I kill you ’.

drop-off made sure the whole neighborhood and half the Ithiel Town knew all about it. Millie, the neck of the woods gossip had a field day. Katy and Dillon were shamed and ridiculed, she was a tramp and he was a ruttish college prick who couldn't keep his peter in his bloomers. Dillon's parents were greatly embarrassed too, which didn't help him at nursing home, and didn't help their relationship with their neighbors.

C.J. was greatly upset by this turn of events. The family turmoil was bad enough, but he would also be losing his unspoilt 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 brood porch of the funeral dwelling house, Dillon took another long, recondite breath before he opened the smoked glass door and entered. He walked tentatively through the foyer and down the hall, passing various hoi polloi he didn't recognize, until he found the right room. He signed the guest book outside the threshold, then entered.

He scanned the crowd way and didn't see any familiar faces at initiatory, but soon sensed a cool off vibe. The feeling of eyes upon him, question turning quickly away when he glanced at them. He looked around, searching for Katy but not finding her, feeling self-conscious, like he was in a fishbowl. Then a male voice to his left broke his concentration.

"What are you doing here, asshole ? I can't think you had the balls to exhibit your side around here."

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

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

"Well, make it snappy, buff 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 way. He spotted Katy off to the side, standing in front of a rampart of flower, talking to an older couple that looked vaguely familiar. He started walking toward her and the crowd of invitee parted like the Red Sea before him. He stopped about eight ft away from her.

It had been nearly four geezerhood, but suddenly the meaning of the phrase ‘ a sight for sore centre'hit him like a lightning bolt. She still looked incredible. Tired, but substantial and beautiful. She wore a long-sleeved blackness dress that hugged her slim human body. Her blond hair's-breadth was whipped back in a french twisting, and her earrings matched the gloss of her sky-blue eyes.

He stood there, taking her in. Once she saw him, their middle locked. The duo she was talking to notice it, looked at him, then back at her, and faded away. They held their gaze for a long, frozen bit, oblivious to the spectators in the room. Dillon raised his right hand, with his purple-nailed pinky extended. Katy did the same with her right hand, the brilliant purple brilliantly contrasting the black polish on the rest of her nails. There was a sad smile on her face. The spectators were amused and confused by the gestures.

He walked toward her, right into her implements of war. The various guests watched their tightly-wrapped consistency as they hugged. Dillon felt the fastball of her breasts against him, and whiffed the smell of refreshed fruit 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 letters meant so lots to him."

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

They finally broke their embracement and Katy took his hand and led him over to the coffin. They looked down at C.J., whose face was picket with a cold-shoulder tincture of a grinning. Dillon started crying softly when he saw how he was dressed. He was wearing his Jersey from Dillon's high school baseball team.

"It seemed only right that he bear his baseball jersey,"Katy said."It was his ducky piece of wear. He treasured it."

Dillon put his arm around her again, pulled her close as his tears dripped down his nerve. They stood there together until his teardrop abated. They stepped away, off into a corner 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 row,"he said.

"Can I ask a favor ?"

"Sure. Anything."

"It's a big one."

"What is it ?"

"Would you speak at the service ?"

"Really ? Me ?"

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

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

"ex-husband,"she blurted."This is my show, don't worry about him. If he gives us any shit I'll call the cops."

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

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

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

"I know you won't."

"You better get back to your other Edgar Albert Guest,"he said, and gave her hand a firm squeeze."I'll see you tomorrow."

He walked across the room and out of the fishbowl with his top dog held high, and he felt the mass of oculus in the room covering him like head-shrinker wrap.

-- --

Dillon stayed at his parents'house that dark, although he didn't talk to them much, only for a few minutes. He told them he'd been asked to utter at the funeral service and he had to cook. So he went to the unornamented sleeping room with pen and paper and tried to write something down, something meaningful, but nothing of substance would come. His idea was a jumbal, adrift in his memories of C.J. There were too many experiences and conversations to assimilate and organize. He was bone-tired, from the tenacious drive, his lonesome grief, and his visit to the fish bowl. He fell off to sleep without accomplishing much.

He slept like rigidify wood. He woke up early, refreshed, and jotted down a list of bullet point in time on three-by-five circuit board. He didn't know if he'd speak for two transactions or 20. He trusted that his muse would show up when the time was right.

Dillon walked into the funeral household twenty minutes early and was surprised at the shift the place had gone through in sixteen time of day. The walls that had separated the viewing way had disappeared and it was three or four times the size of the goldfish bowl he'd visited the night before. It was now one big room, like an auditorium, lined with course and row of folding electric chair on two sides separated by a centerfield gangway, ready to accommodate a with child turnout. The crowd was trickling in. A dead kid was quite a draw.

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

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

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

Once the place was to the full and SRO, Katy was ushered down the aisle to the nominal head row on the left field position, and the show got on the road, right on metre. drop was seated on the right hand side, next to a Lester Willis Young woman.

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

He could almost feel the breathe in breather of the hushed attendants on his goose-fleshed weapon system as he strode to the podium. Once there, he looked out at the pack star sign, impressed by the size of it. Every can was taken and others stood around the side of meat and back of the way. His manpower sifted through the pocket of his crownwork, shirt and trousers for his cue cards, but they were not to be found. He'd left them in his car, where he'd last rehearse. He would take in to wing it.

He cleared his throat, adjusted the mike, raised it up. Took a deep breathing place. Nervous bodily function. Then he began.

"When I was asked to address 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 grouping, all here to pay your respects, it scares me even more. But here goes. I hope I can do it justice. For Katy. For drop. For C.J.

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

"When I was a boy, Katy and Cliff moved into the house next door to my family. We could severalise right away that they were slap-up people and would be swell neighbor, and my family quickly accepted them into the neck of the woods 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 motorcar, cut their grass and weed their garden in the summer, shovel their driveway when it snowed, contain care of their dog and feed their Pisces when they were away, anything to gain a few dollars.

"After C.J. was born, and it became straighten out that he was not a normal, healthy child, but instead had an ugly, tight disease, most of their time was devoted to his special motive, his Doctor appointments, his health check tests, his treatments, et cetera. Gradually, I was asked to do Thomas More and more chores around their firm and property because they just didn't have the time. I mended fences, washed Windows, cleaned out rainwater gutters, raked farewell, stained the deck, you name it.

"As C.J. got former, he would sit outside in his wheelchair, on the straw man porch or on the deck out in the stake yard, and he'd watch me work. And we would talk. We talked a lot. And by the clip I was in my adolescent and C.J. was six eld old, I realized that female parent Nature may have given him an unhealthy dead body, but at the same time she had given him a brilliant Brigham Young mind.

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

He raised his right pinky for all to see.

"Even at that young age, he could read at a pretty high degree and he impressed me with his intelligence. His wit, his mental lexicon, his knowledge. He knew every participant, knew their turn and their stats and their superlative and weightiness and where they went to college. He would amaze me and surprise me with historical facts about the player and the squad and the play, stuff I never knew, and I thought I knew a lot.

"And his attitude was always convinced. I can't remember him ever feeling sorry for himself. But I do remember thought, how can this piffling guy, whose body was so weakly, be so stiff ? I began to realise that C.J. was not just the kid future door, not just some young friend. He was the little sidekick I never had.

"I asked him one sentence, do you ever get mad that you were born with this disease, and you can't run and jump and play ball with other tike, and have to use a wheelchair ? He looked down for a moment, then up at me. And with hint of tears in his centre, 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 effect to them ’. Even with all the hardship he'd faced in his animation, he didn't think about himself. He thought about others. He was more occupy 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 pros, and we talked about every biz. In the saltation of my aged year, as my baseball team was in preparation for the upcoming season, C.J., who was nine or ten years old by this fourth dimension, told me he was going to come to all the home game and ancestor for our squad. I don't know if I believed that that would really happen or not, but I went to see my coach a few days before our first base 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 vernal life history, and how a lot he liked our team, and I'd like to turn over him a hat. motorcoach said, Hell, Dillon, you don't need to pay for it, and he not only gave me a hat, but gave me a unharmed team uniform, the minor one he had. When I gave it to C.J., he grinned from ear-to-ear. He put the cap on his brain and held that uniform in his mitt, 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 game. Coach cleared a special box adjacent to our dugout and the rack, just for him, and to admit his wheelchair, and you could see the joy on his brass when the instrumentalist and coaches would come up over to stir his hand and say Hi to him. He came to every home game that season, dressed in his uniform and cap, to rout us on. He is wearing that very same jersey today.

"There was one game late in the season, a low-scoring pitchers'duel. I pitched a two-hitter and hit a solo home run to win the game one-to-nothing. After the biz and a mild festivity, 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 eff what C.J. told me ? He said he was proud of me ! Can you consider that ? He was proud of me !

"Well, I felt the emotion rise up in me like a blink of an eye flowage. All I did was win a ballgame. But I thought of all he had been through in his immature sprightliness, and of all the effectiveness and perseverance he had to accept every single day, just to get through it all. I was on the verge of tears. I told him give thanks you, and that I was proud of him too. But I don't know if he knew how truly proud of him I was, or how much I respected him, and loved him. I hope he knows that, and knows how often I've missed him.

"We all face Benny Hill and vale in our lives. well times, bad fourth dimension, sword lily times, sad times. Ups and Down. And whenever I reach a low point, a clip when I feel bad, or overwhelmed, and want to throw in or give up or feel sorry for myself, I think of C.J. And it makes me palpate better, it makes me experience stronger, and suddenly matter don't seem so bad. I feel like that's a talent 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 slight Brother. This world could use a few more than masses like C.J."

You could stimulate heard a pin pearl as Dillon left the dais with all centre upon him. He was choked up, to the full of emotion, the rip were bubbling in his oculus, but he'd somehow gotten through it. He glanced at Katy as he walked back to his ass. She nodded and gave him a teary, satisfied grin. He looked at Sonia, who was staring at him and lipped, ‘ That was beautiful ’. He took his tail end, relieved and drained.

Dillon sat through the rest of the overhaul, which was a blur of give-and-take, music, and a prayer. Afterwards, he stood outside the funeral house, chatting with his parents and his sister Irene. In a issue of minutes, three different people came up to him and congratulated him on his eulogium. One said it was the best he'd ever heard.

Dillon and his family went to Katy's house afterwards for some food and socialization and commiseration, 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 thank him for his paean. As they were about to leave, Katy pulled him aside and asked him to come back later, after the early guests were gone. He said he would.

Sonia, who planned to stay with Katy for a copulate 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, hush girl,"Katy said."Please. It's been four years."

"So what, I can read you like a book. corporate trust me, you will. It's all over your look, 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 Loretta Young, but he's a cutie."

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

-- --

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

They were in the living room, to the leftfield of the foyer. Sonia was seated in an easy chair facing Katy, who was on the lounge. Mellow jazz was playing softly. Katy patted the couch shock absorber to her leftfield, and Dillon took a buttocks 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 next hour they sipped lemonade and talked about the day : The overhaul, the preacher, the Edgar Albert Guest. Katy was glad with the way everything had gone, especially please that Cliff had behaved himself. She then recapped for Dillon the highlights and lowlights of her divorce. She was relieved she would not have to take with Cliff again.

When the pitcher was void, Sonia excused herself."Well, I'm going to turn 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 manner of speaking, Dillon,"Katy said, after Sonia left. She took his paw in hers, the first base time they'd touched since he'd arrived."It was so real, and so cutter. Everyone was in tears."

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

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

nil was said for a while. They just sat here, their bodies flush, their hands clasped, listening to voiced music, cherishing the uncomplicated pleasure of being together after so long. Katy nestled against him, Dillon rested his brass against her hair and breathed in her delicious, long-lost scent.

"This is nice,"Katy said, after some metre. Then she raised her head word, turned to await at him, and after a momentary break, kissed him.

Their back talk parted and their athirst mouths went into overdrive, the once-familiar tongues becoming reacquainted. In a heartbeat, their bodies turned and meshed and their weapon locked around each other. Dillon felt her knocker against his dresser and pushed his hardening pecker against her, and as if they were in a time 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 years, but as soon as I laid eye on you at the funeral home close night, I wanted you."

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

"Stay with me tonight,"she said.

"Are you sure ?"He kissed her neck.

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

"What about your babe ?"He sucked on her teat through the cotton textile of her blouse.

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

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

"Good."

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

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

They rose and Katy led him by his hand to her sleeping room, shutting the threshold behind them. They tore their clothes off as they french-kissed, each savoring the preference of the other.

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

It all came back in an New York minute. He knew exactly what she liked, and all of her sweet dapple. She moaned with his ghost and her body was soon writhing and wouldn't stop. He kissed her quivering second joint. He traced his glossa along the interior of her moistened broken lips, before plunging it inside her. Katy squeaked with pleasure, and Dillon sot in the smell and taste of her, like a sip of sang-froid sweetwater after four years in the desert.

He sucked her clit into his mouth, and just like the old sidereal day, Katy fell into the sway and fucked his face with a cycle matching his. It was as if no fourth dimension had passed.

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

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

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

It didn't take long for her to come the first clip. It had been a long while since she'd had sex and her loins were trip happy. And Dillon knew how to advertise all her push better than anyone ever had. She'd taught him well and he didn't miss a beat.

Katy shivered and half-screamed his name when her dike broke. He felt the wet, warm up rush of her saved-up cum surround his tongue and wash his look, and he tasted her juicy funk again, finally. He never thought this would happen again, but here they were. A thought flowed through his nous briefly as he lapped up her succus. He thought how he could never, ever get more intimate with a woman than he was at that here and now : Her clit in his rima oris, his finger up her ass, her cum on his fount. But it was a fleeting thought process. His pecker was swollen and toilsome and achy. It was clip to fuck.

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

No problem. Dillon was ready to bust. But he didn't want to hurry matter. He wanted to shit it last, make it beautiful. He kissed her, slid his hands back under her ass. He lingered, took his fourth dimension, kissing her with his dick inside her and his finger once again feeling their way of life around her adorable rump. He wanted to screw her slowly. They fell into a easy, loving rhythm.

"You like this ?"

"I love this."

binding and forth, up and down, in and out, taking their sentence, kissing, smiling, only gradually picking up speed. Dillon knew he would suffer to occur soon, so he picked up his pace and started banging her harder, then harder, and Katy was okay with that. Her stage were wrapped around his, constricting, as she slung her consistence at him over and over as his cock rammed her ripe twat.

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

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

"Yeah, baby, make it to me. reach it to me."

His dead body shook with each hammered spirt. When his Nut were drained, his torso, still wavering, was zapped and telling him to rest, but he did not. He wanted Katy to come again and he knew how to make that bump. So he jammed his digit up her ass and started pumping his drained dong into her as hard as he could without throwing his rear out.

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

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

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

*

Sonia enjoyed the show, although it was strictly auditive through the thin walls. 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 Whitney Moore Young Jr. lover on top of her, pounding her, making her shriek like that. But she felt a calm ejaculate over her. She now knew her sister would be alright, because she was already healing, getting the cocksucker 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 thirty-nine year old babe in the next way getting laid by her XXIV year old devotee, she masturbated, then quickly fell asleep.

In the middle of the Nox, Dillon woke up and walked into the privy adjacent to the master chamber. He closed the door and turned on the igniter. His backtalk was dry, and tasted funky. He found some mouthwash under the sink and took a swig, squished it around and spit it into the cesspool. He turned on the faucet, ran the pee onto his hands and scooped a drinking from his palms. He splashed his fount and dried it. He raised the lav posterior and took a leak, 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 sexy conformation as he walked to the bathroom, watched the threshold close and the light come on. She heard the weewee running, then the sound of him pissing. The toilet flushed, the faucet was running again. She reached over and felt around in the draftsman of her nightstand and found what she was looking for. She popped the top on the tube-shaped structure and squeezed, rubbed the greasy stuff all over her hands, and fingered herself.

The john light went off, the room access opened and Dillon came back to bed and lay beside her in the iniquity. She immediately grabbed his hitch prick and stroked it with her slick paw. He turned to her in the wickedness and they kissed. Katy pivoted her body and went down on him, and sucked him for a arcminute until his cock reached its upper limit stiffness, length and cinch. Then she lay back beside him and pulled him on top of her. She splayed her pegleg wide and guided his cock to her opening.

"Fuck me,"she whispered.

He pushed his stopcock into her. It was loaded, but he slid in with a sweet 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 peg and stroked her clit, which was already swollen with expectation. As Dillon began fucking her, she pulled her trigger harder and harder, wanting to couple his bowel movement and come big when he did.

Dillon broke a wakeful stew as he propelled his prick in and out of her. It had been four tenacious years since he'd buttfucked her, but he was now in a country of rapture. As his stiff, slippery tool sledded in and out of her, and he felt the house, hot pressure of her perfect ass around it, he felt like he was finally home.

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

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

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

Dillon gave it to her. His body shook with each of his cramp as he fired his consignment trench inside her, but he stayed in lieu because his gumshoe 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 electrical bass part, reaching for her coming. Dillon was about to put his back talk down there and do his affair, when Katy howled like a wounded wolf and her torso shivered and she came in the wickedness. They quickly fell asleep.

The sun was up when they woke later that forenoon. They said full dayspring, kissed and Dillon spooned Katy from behind, holding her tight, not wanting to let her go. But soon he was kissing her neck and licking her ear, and then Katy turned to face him and they were kissing, and both were aroused, and they screwed again. But it was a stark dividing line to their raunchy, middle-of-the-night assfuck. They made slow, precious love, taking the time to testify their tending to every corner and chap and cleavage and opening of their bodies. Afterward, they held each other in silence. No watchword were necessary.

But Dillon was thinking. He was thinking about how it was Sabbatum first light and he would stimulate one Thomas More day with Katy before he left to tug back to his flat and his job. He was thinking that he didn't go nursing home last Nox and his family would know why. He was thinking about Millie, and how the gossip James Mill was probably already turning. Katy was the first one to mouth, breaking the silence and interrupting his cerebration, but practically reading his mind.

"move in with me,"she said.

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

"I said, move in with me."

"Move in with you ? What, here ?"

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

"Really ?"

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

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

"So ? Quit. You can find a job here, if the caller can't relocate you. Or right yet, get a really estate license, we'll work together. I do pretty well, I'm sure you would too. We'd make a hell of a squad, 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 make to just anyone, and not without careful thoughtfulness. I've idea about it over and over."She got out of bed, stood up, looked down at him."I'm sure. And do you cognize why I'm sure ? I'm sure because I've spent so much time thinking about you and missing you and I feel like I've waited four old age for you. You make me finger right, 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 choose a shower."

Dillon watched her shapely, defenseless ass disappear into the bathroom, leaving the room access unresolved. He heard her good turn on the exhibitor. He laughed quietly to himself. Something that he'd thought about for years, something that he thought could never happen, was happening. He got off the bed and walked into the bathroom. He slid the shower door aside and stepped in beside her. Katy's knocker were covered with soap.

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

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

"You were ?"

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

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

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

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

"I love you, Dillon."

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

"So, how did you get over the fear ?"he asked."What made you decide to recount 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 former, the way we hugged, the way we interacted. I knew she was right-hand and I just hadn't admitted it yet. I knew I had to do something before you got away again."

They kissed and ran their wet, soapy fingers over their wet, soapy bodies, and before you could say ‘ I'm hard again ’, Dillon was hard again. to a lesser extent than a half hour after they'd made lovemaking in bed, they made sexual love again in the shower. With their mouths plastered together, and his hands cupped under her butt, and her legs wrapped around his waistline, and his dick rich inside her, and her back against the tile wall, they fucked for the first fourth dimension as institutionalize fan, and they came in an echoed unison of orgasms just as the weewee pouring down upon them ran cold.

-- --

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

The rest of the weekend was a nonstop love-in. They rarely left the sleeping accommodation. They had too practically catching up to do. Dillon never even went back over to see his parents, or to say bye-bye when he left. He figured he'd wait until he got back to tell them that he was going to be their new succeeding door neighbor.

He left at four a.m. on Monday so he would get to the office on time. He had a busy day planned. In addition to several appointments, he had to type up his letter of resignation and gift his two-week notice. His supervisor was surprised when he told him he was leaving, but couldn't crack to relocate him. That was fine with Dillon ; Katy had said she would happen out when and where the literal land courses were being given so he could hit the dry land running when he got back.

He called his female parent after the get-go 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 house, and never came back. She also said Millie was on the case.

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

-- --

Early on Sat morning, the day after his net day at body of work, 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 time. He spent most of the five 60 minutes in deep thought, thinking about Katy, and all the nasty things they were going to do when he got there. It was mid-afternoon by the time he got to Katy's planetary house, and he didn't know it, but he was in for a big surprise. He was soon to ascertain 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 bit for over an hour. When he pulled into the drive, she emerged onto the forepart porch. She had a big smile on her look as Dillon walked to the porch. She stepped down to recognise him.

"Welcome base,"she said, as she took him into her weapons system."Just in case there are any neighbour watching, let's give them something to verbalize about."

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

"That ought to do it. Let's moving ridge to Millie."

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

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

"Now, Dillon,"Katy said,"I don't want you to get mad. I know I didn't discus this with you, but I invited somebody else to ploughshare the star sign with us."

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

"Yes. Do you like three-ways ?"

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

"Three-way. trey. Threesome. Manage a trois. Whatever you want to visit it. You know. You and me and another little girl. In bed together."

Dillon felt like he'd just driven five minute into the twilight Zone.

"You're into that ?"

"Sure, why not. Don't headache, 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 Edgar Albert Guest bedroom at the far end of the Hall. Katy opened the door and went into the elbow room, Dillon was aright behind. Then he saw her.

She was lying on the bed, on top of a jumble of cover. 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, whitened High German sheepherder puppy !

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

"Ooh, I hope so."

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

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

"Lady ! What else ?"

Katy picked up a small gift-wrapped packet off of the bureau and handed it to him. He ripped it open. It was a pink and naughty collar with an bond cordate tag that had ‘ peeress'etched into it.

"Ah, you knew."

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

"What a courteous surprise,"he said."Thank you. Lady is beautiful, I love her already. But she just woke up, she probably needs to go out. Why don't we take her for a walk and contribution her beauty with the neighborhood ? It'll assistance get the rumor pulverization cranked up."

"phone like a plan."

So they put gentlewoman's collar around her neck and hooked up her leash, and they took a leisurely amble around the cylinder block. And when they got back to the house, Dillon dragged Katy into the bedroom. They tore each others'apparel off and they jumped into bed, along with Lady, and they had their very first oversee a trois. Or threesome. Or ternary. Or three-party, or whatever you want to call it. Katy and Dillon made loud, passionate sexual love, but for the most part, dame just watched.

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