bill : This is a work of fable, events and characters are a product of author 's imagination. The lonesome two characters who have sex are over 20 geezerhood of age.

FOR C.J.

Early on Tuesday morning, Dillon's cell telephone rang and woke him out of a dead rest. It was too former to take a song, 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 powerful mind calls this early. Why didn't I turn this shucks sound off last night ?, he wondered. But he was curious and looked at the phone. The phone 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 earpiece. He knew his Church Father would never send for him unless he suspected him of stealing his golf clubs.

"trade good morning, beloved,"his female parent said.

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

"I know love, but I have to give 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 silence for a long bit. Finally, he asked,"When ?"

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

Another extended pause.

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

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

"poor people Katy,"he repeated.

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

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

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

"I'm coming back for it."

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

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

-- --

Dillon grew up in a modest, split-level house in a suburban, middle-class neighborhood. Just him, his sister Irene, who was two long time jr., and his parents, Tanya and sea mile. The schoolbook nuclear family. His parents still lived there. Dillon now lived in a Town three hundred sea mile from there. He had moved away various year before under somewhat of a cloud. He thought it was the rightfulness thing to do at the time, considering the consideration he faced. He thought if he moved away, someplace where nobody knew him, he could drop his days living his life instead of trying to outlive his past.

When Dillon was a boy, a youthful couple moved in next room access to them. The new neighbor, Katy and cliff, were Whitney Young marrieds in their 20, and despite the fact that they were nine or ten years untested than his parents, they all soon became in effect neighbor and Friend. And Dillon liked his new neighbour almost instantly. Because of Lady.

dame was a come across, beautiful White High German Shepherd. Katy and Cliff had found the dog on the side of meat 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 workweek, trying to find madam's owner. No response. They were okay with that. By then, they loved Lady, and peeress 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 soggy lawn tennis balls a million times, and she happily ran them down and returned them to him, and softly dropped them at his ft.

Dillon became the next-door-neighbor-all-around helper to Katy and drop-off. He tended to gentlewoman of course, but also took attention of many former job to shit a short money. He helped in the grand, weeded their garden, cleaned the deck, shoveled their private road when it snowed, fed their Pisces when they were away, among former things. Cliff traveled for his job, so oftentimes Katy was alone during the week and Dillon was a big aid.

When Katy became pregnant, Dillon was nine years old and got a crash class on the shuttle 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 carry her packages or groceries or whatever else she had, inside for her. She worked as a real estate of the realm agentive role, so she was always lugging a bag wax of papers 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 down to him, or cover him like a kid. She was actually interested in what he had to say.

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

"I don't guardianship,"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 big calendar month. When Katy finally gave birth, she had a fiddling boy. He was named after his father. Clifford Junior. Katy called him C.J. from the start. But it did not plow out to be the happy, damn event everyone was expecting.

Before long it became obvious that something was not right hand with the little boy, and after umpteen trial run and referrals and Dr. and prayers and fits of angst and depression and optimism and hopelessness, they learned that their cherished little boy had mesomorphic dystrophy. And it wasn't the run-of-the-mill, everyday muscular dystrophy, which was bad enough, but it was the ugly, ruthless, evilness, black sheep cousin of M.D., the one that guaranteed a short life history. Duchenne syndrome, they called it. C.J. was a very sick short boy.

-- --

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

He got back to his apartment that night, ate a grill tall mallow sandwich and a bowl of soup for dinner, and did a load of laundry. He was happy his roommate wasn't around because he wasn't in the mood to chit-chat. He had just started to pack a bag for the stumble when his mother called and told him the funeral plans. There would be viewings on each of the next two night, Wed and Thursday, and the funeral would be Friday aurora. He decided he would turn Wednesday, and effort there on Thursday for the viewing. If all went well he could attend the funeral on Friday, and have the weekend to visit with his ethnic music and maybe a friend or two.

-- --

The get-go few years of C.J.'s lifetime were a stiff parade of Doctor's offices, tests, dour news and Hope for a miracle. It put a outstanding strain on Katy and Cliff of track, and their marriage began to suffer. Katy was a impregnable mom, but her lugubriousness was a weightiness that became harder and strong to mask. Cliff had a terrible fourth dimension coping with having a terminally-ill minor, as if his spermatozoan were the causal agent of it and somehow made him less of a man. He appeared embarrassed and ashamed, and never bonded with his son. He traveled more than and More, and drank more and more, distancing himself, trying to fall the pain and desperation. As C.J. was growing up, his dad was not much of a factor. His parents eventually separated, got back together, separated again. Wash, rinse, Repeat.

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

Dillon was amazed with C.J.'s cognition of fun, especially baseball and football game. Although he'd never play the game, even at the age of six or seven C.J. knew the pattern and all the participant and their numbers and their stats and where they'd gone to college, and he asked smart doubtfulness. He knew the histories of the play, facts and effect from way before his time, stuff of which Dillon had no cue. Mother Nature had given C.J. a badly-damaged body, but she had also given him a brilliant and queer mind.

By the time Dillon was a elderly in richly school, he was a mavin on the baseball team. Katy would bring C.J. to all the home biz and would park his wheelchair in the special touch the team had reserved for him, where he'd root for his team. The role player would come over to him and say hi, and considered him the team mascot and their number one fan.

Over the days Dillon had spent hundreds and 100 of hours doing chores for Katy, and spending time talking with her and C.J. As a result, he came to realize two very of import things.

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

And two, he no longer just viewed Katy as the amazing mom side by side doorway who didn't talk down to him and paid him to do line that needed to be done around the house. He saw her differently now. She was a booster, yes, but she was a woman. A strong, attractive char. Some innocent dalliance happened from fourth dimension to time. So what if she's fifteen age older, he thought. No harm done.

He found himself admiring her reasonably aspect, trim body, firm knocker, and tight ass. And he always noticed her fingernails. They were always manicured and neatly polished, and regardless of what colour she'd chosen for her other seven fingerbreadth and her two thumbs, her right little finger was always the Sami : Bright, fluorescent fixture 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 course. Why would a thirty-something, semi-married woman with a cat child be interested in an 18 yr 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 function. He partied and slept with various girlfriend. But when he came home for holidays or summertime holiday, he would always spend time next door with Katy and C.J.

When Dillon came home for the summer after his sophomore year of college, he was twenty years old. He went succeeding door to gossip, and learned that the doctor had placed C.J. in a treatment quickness for a few daylight for another battery of exam. That's when his thing with Katy began.

-- --

It was a five hr thrust. Dillon didn't recall nigh of it, which variety of scared him. He had no recollection of miles and geographical mile of highway that had disappeared into his rear view mirror. His mind was focused on what lay ahead. How was Katy holding up ? Would Cliff make a setting ? 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 things perfectly. The wake was scheduled for six- until eight p.m., and he pulled into the funeral base parking lot at 6:30. He drove to the furthermost end and parked his car. He sat, rested, waited. He reached to his right and picked up the small bottle of sail through polish from the rider buttocks. Neon purple. He shook it, uncapped it, and carefully applied it to the fingernail on his right-hand pinky. He blew on it until it dried. Then he took a deep breath, straightened his tie, opened the threshold, got out, retrieved his athletics coat from the hook above the backseat window, and walked to the building.

-- --

Dillon got home on a Th good afternoon in tardily May after completing his sophomore class of college. In a week or two he'd incur his grad and officially be a junior. He would be plate for three months, and would pop out his summer job in a few days. After dinner with his parents, he noticed that Katy's car still was not parked in her driveway future doorway. It hadn't been there earlier when he'd sire home, which was not unusual, but Katy always made a point to have C.J.'s dinner ready at the same time every night, and now it was well past that meter. He looked out the window periodically, checking for Katy's car. At a petty after nine o'clock he noticed that her car was now in her driveway. It was getting a bit deep for a social call, but when he saw the promiscuous go on in the den, he figured what the hell, he'd go over and say hi.

When Katy opened the door, he could tell right away that something was wrong. Her blond whisker was bunched into a cabbage ball atop her point, her blouse was wrinkled, her list face looked stressed along with her tired eyes.

"Hi, Dillon,"she said, when she opened the room access. Her confront 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 arms and hugged her. That was a first, but he held her tightly, felt the curved shape of her body hard against his. She hugged him back, put her head against his shoulder, and cried harder. He let her cry.

When her tears subsided they went into the den. They sat on the couch, side by side. Katy explained that C.J. had had an attack of some variety and couldn't breathe. She called 911. He was back in the hospital. More mental testing, more CAT scan, more doctors. She was a nervous wreck and scared shitless. Dillon tried to tranquilize her as best he could, tried to assure her. drop-off was not around, as usual.

He noticed he was holding her hand. He looked at her slender fingers, her polished nails. All of her nails were painted black, except one : Her mightily pinky was purpurate. He'd always been curious about this use of hers, this purple pinky. He'd noticed it many clock time, and no matter whether the remainder of her nails were polished or not, her right little finger always was, and always stood out in bright purple.

"What's with the purple pinky ?"he asked, wrapping his digit 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 favorite football squad ?"she said.

"Of form. The Ravens."

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

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

Katy shook her head."My misfortunate niggling boy,"she blurted, and burst into another alluvion of tears.

Dillon put his arm around her and let her cry, her head nestled against his neck opening. Neither said anything for a spell. 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 okay. I'm sword lily I'm here."

"You're always so easy to tattle 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 good. About anything."

They sat quietly for a bit. Son escaped him. He nestled his face into her hair. It smelled skilful, like ripe melons. 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 center felt the burning. Then, because it was the second-most-logical matter to do, he kissed her lips.

Rubbery, was his world-class thought. Soft. Sensual. Not like to the highest degree of the hard-lipped, constrained college girl kisses he'd had. Really gracious, felt natural. His lips lingered on hers for a moment before he backed away. Her eyes were widely, two unflinching 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 deplorable, it's okeh,"she replied, and gently pulled his hand toward her."I like it. It felt good. I want to feel good."Her fingers laced rich into his. She took a late breathing place and said,"Do it again."

Dillon tightened his grip on her articulatio humeri, dug in, made sure enough she felt it. He pulled her to him and their upper berth bodies touched, then melded. His hand went to her breast and he thumbed her stiffly mammilla through the flimsy fabrics of her blouse and bra. When he put his face to hers, Katy's lips parted immediately and her natural language slithered into his mouth. She slued around to face him, pulled him close, front-on-front, their bodies flush now, giving her lingua deeper depth. Dillon sucked her clapper, which was swirling like a lizard in his mouthpiece. He felt her tits firmly against his breast, her arms around him, and her leg looped over his. The kiss went on, a duet of tongues, until saliva oozed between their lip and their groins were on high alert.

When their mouthpiece finally separated, Katy peppered Dillon's face with candy kiss pecks, saying,"I need this. I want this."She pivoted her body, straddled his ramification, sat on his lap, facing him. She felt his dick hard against her privates. She kissed him again with undecided lips, her tongue on a rampage, two thirsty sass screwing while she ground her pile onto his swollen-headed pecker and pressed her stoked heart against his chest. The kiss went on, their handwriting roamed on binding and laughingstock, he was hard, she was wet.

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

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

Naked, their bodies plunged onto the bed. Katy's mouth was sharp-set, attacking his, sucking his tongue into her mouth. Her quick hands and finger squeezed his ass, surrounded his cock. Dillon followed along, but painting by numbers racket.

He suddenly realized that he was in way over his head. What to do ?, he wondered. This is a maturate woman, not some dumb college broad with no more experience than he. He wanted to delight her, he had to. He decided to take mastery, find fault up the pace. Pushing, grinding, overdoing.

"Hey,"Katy said warmly, running her fingers through his brusk, brown whisker."Take it prosperous. Take your prison term. We have all night."

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

She did. She kissed him, held it for a bit, her supple rim hypnotizing him. With her custody on either side of meat of his head, she guided it downward until her goose was in his brass. She fingered her clit in movement of his face.

"Here,"she said."Put your mouthpiece here. biff it, buss it, eat it, suck it, but stay fresh your oral fissure there. You'll know."

Dillon dove in. He took her swollen fruit into his lip, molded his lips around it, tasted it with soft caresses, and she hissed when he slipped his natural language inside her. He planted his hands under the cheeks of her ass and held tight, mashing grimace to twat. He explored her hungry, squirmy bitch with his tongue, and savored her wet, salty Tang dynasty. He kept at it, stayed down there, and wouldn't come up for air until he'd gotten what he was after.

Katy's body writhed with pleasance as he ate her. Her hands were firmly adhered to his psyche as she smushed her crotch into his facial expression. She started grinding her pussy into his brass, and soon was pumping it, fucking his sassing. Dillon sucked her like a straw.

She shrieked when she came. Her cum streamed out of her. He felt her outpouring on his face, was surprised by its chroma, like none he'd experienced before. Katy was surprised too ; even though it had been a while, her torso shook with the superpower of it, and she had an orgasm like she'd not had in a prospicient, long clock 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 mouth. As they kissed, his body atop hers, she wrapped her hand around his peter and fed it into her drippy twat. It slid into her with slick relief, balls deep.

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

She wrapped her stage around his like tentacles and squeezed, tightening like a boa, as if to get every last drop of juice from a lemon. Dillon took the not-so-subtle soupcon. He clenched her bum in his helping hand 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 eubstance into it. Their fucking took on a staccato musical rhythm, like rim shots on a snare, smack bang smack smack, while the bed outpouring played hi-hat.

It went on, and on, their genitals colliding on a pursuit for firing, and they kissed as they fucked. Dillon was going to dump a freight of his semen into this beautiful, mature cleaning lady, he knew that, but he slowed for a clip, not wanting to blow his top too soon. Her pleasure would descend before his.

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

Katy moaned and she shivered head-to-toe. Dillon knew this was it, so he put a little special carrier bag in his accident. She moaned again, louder.

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

She came in another torrent, barely less than her start. She pinched his pecker 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 tankful was emptied, Dillon collapsed onto the bed beside her. They were lying on their incline, looking at each former, and their faces broke into wide smiles.

"That was wonderful,"she said.

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

"Oh, please…"

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

"Really ?"

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

"I haven't eaten since early this daybreak, had a Danish and a coffee from the car at the infirmary. Wasn't hungry all day, but I am now. How ‘ round I fix us some tuna fish sandwiches ?"

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

"What's funny story ?"Katy asked.

"tunny fish."

"Tuna fish is funny ? 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 tunny with anything other than a fish. cognise what I mean ?"

"Um, I guess so."

"I mean, we say bluefish or rock fish because those words have different meanings. But there's no other meaning for tuna fish, so why add the fish to it ? We don't say ‘ flounder fish'or ‘ haddock Pisces'or ‘ trout Pisces ’. We don't say ‘ beefburger cow ’, or ‘ pork chop shot pig ’. So why do we say Opuntia tuna fish ?"

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

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

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

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

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

After they ate their sandwiches and crisp, they fucked again. Then it was getting late, and Katy suggested that Dillon leave so that no rumors got started, no matter how dead on target they might be. He agreed that it was a expert idea.

*

Their affair lasted about of the summer. They had to be discreet, of course, so once or twice a calendar week Dillon would pinch over late at night, long after C.J. was asleep. They would make screw as quietly as potential, and after they both came a pair clock time he would sneak back out.

No one suspected a thing until it all blew up one Saturday nighttime in ahead of time August. They were in the midsection of a impassioned sixty-nine when a drunken Cliff showed up unannounced and caught them in the act. He went ballistic, screaming, throwing things, breaking things, calling them names, threatening them. He chased a half-clothed Dillon out of the family, screaming at him, told him to ‘ get the infernal region out before I kill you ’.

Cliff made for certain the whole region and half the Town knew all about it. Millie, the neck of the woods chin wagging had a field day. Katy and Dillon were shamed and ridiculed, she was a tramp and he was a randy college incision who couldn't keep his dick in his pants. Dillon's parents were greatly embarrassed too, which didn't avail him at home base, and didn't help their kinship with their neighbors.

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

-- --

Standing on the covered porch of the funeral abode, Dillon took another long, deep breath before he opened the smoked deoxyephedrine threshold and entered. He walked tentatively through the antechamber and down the Asaph Hall, passing several people he didn't recognize, until he found the right room. He signed the guest book outside the door, then entered.

He scanned the push way and didn't see any familiar faces at first base, but soon sensed a nerveless vibe. The feeling of heart upon him, psyche 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 manly articulation to his left broke his concentration.

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

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

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

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

cliff wobbled away and Dillon eyed the far end of the room. He spotted Katy off to the side, standing in front of a bulwark of flowers, talking to an older couple that looked vaguely familiar. He started walking toward her and the gang of guests parted like the Red Sea before him. He stopped about eight feet away from her.

It had been nearly four age, but suddenly the meaning of the idiom ‘ a sight for huffy eyes'hit him like a lightning bolt. She still looked unbelievable. Tired, but solid and beautiful. She wore a long-sleeved black dress that hugged her slim figure. Her blond 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 optic locked. The yoke she was talking to mark it, looked at him, then back at her, and faded away. They held their gaze for a long, quick-frozen moment, oblivious to the witness in the room. Dillon raised his correctly hand, with his purple-nailed pinkie extended. Katy did the same with her mightily manus, the bright purpleness brilliantly contrasting the bleak Polish on the residual 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 subdivision. The various client watched their tightly-wrapped bodies as they hugged. Dillon felt the bullets of her chest against him, and whiffed the olfaction of fresh fruit in her fuzz. Their consistency clenched and their rip flowed. They didn't want to let go.

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

"Of row. 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 batting order and letters meant so a lot to him."

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

They finally broke their embrace and Katy took his bridge player and led him over to the casket. They looked down at C.J., whose face was pale with a thin 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 day baseball game team.

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

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

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

"Of course of instruction,"he said.

"Can I ask a party favor ?"

"Sure. Anything."

"It's a big one."

"What is it ?"

"Would you speak at the service ?"

"Really ? Me ?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know you won't."

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

He walked across the elbow room and out of the goldfish bowl with his head held luxuriously, and he felt the multitude of middle in the room covering him like psychiatrist wrap.

-- --

Dillon stayed at his parents'sign 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 service and he had to machinate. So he went to the spare sleeping room with pen and paper and tried to write something down, something meaningful, but nothing of nitty-gritty would come. His mind was a mare's nest, adrift in his memories of C.J. There were too many experiences and conversations to assimilate and organize. He was bone-tired, from the long movement, his unfrequented heartache, and his sojourn to the fishbowl. He fell off to sleep without accomplishing much.

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

Dillon walked into the funeral home XX minute of arc early and was surprised at the translation the plaza had gone through in sixteen hours. The walls that had separated the showing rooms had disappeared and it was three or four time the size of the fishbowl he'd visited the night before. It was now one big room, like an auditorium, lined with rows and rows of folding chairs on two sides separated by a center aisle, ready to accommodate a large turnout. The bunch was trickling in. A stagnant child 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 remembrance leaflet that had been printed up for the service.

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

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

Once the situation was full and SRO, Katy was ushered down the aisle to the front end row on the leave behind side, and the show got on the road, right on metre. drop-off was seated on the right side, next to a young woman.

Dillon sat through the early component part of the service in a hazy daze. There were some remarks, then some music, then the Rev spoke for 15 minute or so, reciting * * * * * * * * * * * ure and all of the set aside, generic, cliched, God-has-a-plan mumbo jumbo. Then suddenly, he heard his gens called.

He could almost finger the inhaled breaths of the quieten attendant on his goose-fleshed implements of war as he strode to the stump. Once there, he looked out at the tamp down house, impressed by the sizing of it. Every tush was taken and others stood around the face and back of the room. His paw sifted through the sac of his crown, shirt and pant for his cue batting order, but they were not to be found. He'd left them in his car, where he'd last practise. He would possess to wing it.

He cleared his throat, adjusted the microphone, raised it up. Took a deep breathing time. Nervous bodily process. 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 orotund group, all here to pay your respect, it scares me even more. But here goes. I hope I can do it justice. For Katy. For drop-off. For C.J.

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

"When I was a boy, Katy and drop moved into the star sign next door to my family. We could tell right away that they were great people and would be keen neighbour, and my family quickly accepted them into the vicinity and into our lives. They both worked full-time and drop-off traveled a lot, so I would do odd jobs for them. I'd wash their cable car, cut their skunk and weed their garden in the summertime, shovel their drive when it snowed, take tutelage of their dog and feed 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, salubrious child, but instead had an ugly, smutty disease, most of their time was devoted to his special needs, his Dr. date, his medical checkup psychometric test, his treatments, et cetera. Gradually, I was asked to do more than and more chores around their home and property because they just didn't have the meter. I mended fencing, washed windows, cleaned out pelting gutter, raked leave of absence, stained the pack of cards, you name it.

"As C.J. got older, he would sit outside in his wheelchair, on the figurehead porch or on the deck out in the stake railway yard, and he'd watch me work. And we would verbalise. We talked a lot. And by the time I was in my teens and C.J. was six years old, I realized that Mother Nature may have given him an unhealthy physical structure, but at the same meter she had given him a brilliant young mind.

"We talked about many things, especially sports. Baseball and football were his deary. The Baltimore Ravens were his preferred team, The purple Pain. That's the ground for the majestic nail polish."

He raised his right pinky for all to see.

"Even at that Lester Willis Young age, he could read at a pretty high-pitched storey and he impressed me with his intelligence. His wit, his vocabulary, his knowledge. He knew every musician, knew their numbers and their stats and their top and system of weights and where they went to college. He would astonish me and surprise me with historical facts about the thespian and the team and the sports, stuff I never knew, and I thought I knew a lot.

"And his position was always positive. I can't retrieve him ever feeling sorry for himself. But I do remember thinking, how can this lilliputian guy, whose body was so sapless, be so strong ? I began to realize that C.J. was not just the kid adjacent threshold, not just some unseasoned Quaker. 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 jump and act as formal with former child, and have to use a wheelchair ? He looked down for a minute, then up at me. And with traces of tears in his oculus, 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 hardship he'd faced in his life, he didn't think about himself. He thought about others. He was more concerned with how it affected his Mom and Dad.

"I played football game and baseball in high school and he followed my squad like he did the pros, and we talked about every game. In the spring of my elderly year, as my baseball team was in training for the upcoming season, C.J., who was nine or ten years old by this clip, told me he was going to come to all the family games and root for our team. I don't know if I believed that that would really hap or not, but I went to see my coach a few days before our foremost game. I asked him if I could buy an extra team hat. He asked me why, had I lost mine ? I said no, and told him about C.J., and all the challenges he had faced in his young life-time, and how much he liked our team, and I'd like to return him a hat. Coach said, blaze, Dillon, you don't need to pay for it, and he not only gave me a hat, but gave me a whole squad uniform, the pocket-sized one he had. When I gave it to C.J., he grinned from ear-to-ear. He put the cap on his caput and held that uniform in his custody, and fondled the letters on the bosom of the Jersey, he treasured it. And that season, Katy made sure he made it to every base biz. Coach cleared a special box adjacent to our dugout and the bandstand, just for him, and to accommodate his wheelchair, and you could see the joy on his face when the players and jitney would fare over to excite his deal and say Hi to him. He came to every family game that season, dressed in his uniform and cap, to root us on. He is wearing that very same jersey today.

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

"Well, I felt the emotion rise up in me like a instant deluge. All I did was win a ballgame. But I thought of all he had been through in his young life, and of all the strength and perseverance he had to have every exclusive day, just to get through it all. I was on the wand of binge. 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 a lot I respected him, and loved him. I hope he knows that, and knows how a good deal I've missed him.

"We all face hills and vale in our life story. unspoilt times, bad prison term, glad times, sad times. Ups and downs. And whenever I reach a low point, a time when I feel bad, or overwhelmed, and want to quit or give up or feel sorry for myself, I think of C.J. And it makes me feel better, it makes me find unattackable, and suddenly affair don't seem so bad. I feel like that's a giving he gave me.

"I should receive 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 petty buddy. This existence could use a few more the great unwashed like C.J."

You could have heard a pin bead as Dillon left the rostrum with all eye upon him. He was choked up, full of emotion, the teardrop were bubbling in his optic, but he'd somehow gotten through it. He glanced at Katy as he walked back to his hind end. 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 rump, relieved and drained.

Dillon sat through the quietus of the serving, which was a blur of Holy Scripture, music, and a prayer. Afterwards, he stood outside the funeral dwelling house, chatting with his parents and his sister Irene. In a matter of second, three different masses came up to him and congratulated him on his pean. 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 condolence, but they didn't persist too long. But they were there long enough for Cliff to arrive up to Dillon and actually justify, and to compliment and thank him for his eulogy. As they were about to leave, Katy pulled him aside and asked him to come back later, after the other Edgar Guest were gone. He said he would.

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

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

"So what, I can read you like a book. Trust me, you will. It's all over your typeface, 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 house. Dillon figured Katy could use a little down time, so he waited another hour before he went over. It was betimes evening when he knocked on her door. ‘ C'mon in ’, he heard Katy Call from inside.

They were in the living way, to the left of the foyer. Sonia was seated in an easygoing hot seat facing Katy, who was on the sofa. Mellow jazz was playing softly. Katy patted the sofa cushion to her left, 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 spyglass and handed it to him.

For the adjacent 60 minutes 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 Cliff had behaved himself. She then recapped for Dillon the highlighting and lowlights of her divorce. She was relieved she would not experience to deal with Cliff again.

When the hurler was empty, Sonia excused herself."wellspring, I'm going to flex in,"she said, as she stood up."It's been a crazy few days. Goodnight Sis. Goodnight Dillon, and thank you again for your eulogy. Everyone agreed it was wonderful. C.J. would have been so proud."She kissed Katy, then kissed Dillon, to his surprise.

"That was a beautiful speech, Dillon,"Katy said, after Sonia left. She took his hired man in hers, the first time they'd touched since he'd arrived."It was so real, and so ship's boat. Everyone was in tears."

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

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

Nothing was said for a while. They just sat here, their consistence flush, their work force clasped, listening to flaccid music, cherishing the dewy-eyed joy of being together after so long. Katy nestled against him, Dillon rested his cheek against her hair and breathed in her delicious, long-lost scent.

"This is nice,"Katy said, after some meter. Then she raised her question, turned to search at him, and after a momentary pause, kissed him.

Their lips parted and their hungry mouths went into overdrive, the once-familiar tongues becoming reacquainted. In a pulse, their physical structure turned and meshed and their limb locked around each other. Dillon felt her tits against his chest of drawers and pushed his hardening cock against her, and as if they were in a time automobile, they instantly picked up where they'd left off long ago.

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

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

"Stay with me tonight,"she said.

"Are you sure ?"He kissed her neck.

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

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

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

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

"Good."

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

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

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

"Make honey 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 spots. She moaned with his ghost and her dead body was soon writhing and wouldn't full stop. He kissed her quivering thighs. He traced his tongue along the inside of her moistened turn down brim, before plunging it inside her. Katy squeaked with pleasure, and Dillon rummy in the aroma and gustation of her, like a sip of cool sweetwater after four years in the desert.

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

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

"Ugh,"Katy groaned. She had her quarter round in his pinna and her finger's breadth webbed around the back of his headland as he ate her.

Dillon hummed a slow tune into her pussycat, played her clitoris like a kazoo. Katy groaned loudly and squirmed some more. When she felt his finger's breadth participate her asshole her pussy was about to explode.

It didn't take long for her to descend the first of all fourth dimension. It had been a retentive patch since she'd had sex and her pubic region were trigger happy. And Dillon knew how to push all her clit better than anyone ever had. She'd taught him well and he didn't miss a beat.

Katy shivered and half-screamed his name when her butch broke. He felt the wet, warmly rushing of her saved-up cum surround his clapper and rinse his face, and he tasted her juicy Casimir Funk again, finally. He never thought this would happen again, but here they were. A opinion flowed through his creative thinker briefly as he lapped up her succus. He thought how he could never, ever get more intimate with a char than he was at that moment : Her clit in his mouth, his finger up her ass, her cum on his side. But it was a fleeting thought. His prick was swollen and hard and achy. It was time to fuck.

Katy was reading his mind. When he put his slimy face up to hers, their back talk had barely touched when he felt her inflexible traction around his cock. She fed it right into her slippery gash and started humping. No convalescence time for this gal. She wanted it again.

No problem. Dillon was ready to bust. But he didn't want to look sharp things. He wanted to make it last, make it beautiful. He kissed her, slid his helping hand back under her ass. He lingered, took his time, kissing her with his peter inside her and his fingers once again feeling their ways around her endearing butt. He wanted to do it her slowly. They fell into a blue, loving rhythm.

"You like this ?"

"I love this."

rachis and forth, up and down, in and out, taking their time, kissing, smiling, only gradually picking up speed. Dillon knew he would take to come 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 body at him over and over as his cock rammed her ripe twat.

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

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

"Yeah, infant, pass on it to me. Give it to me."

His trunk shook with each hammered spurt. When his nuts were drained, his body, 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 materialize. So he jammed his finger up her ass and started pumping his drained dong into her as hard as he could without throwing his back out.

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

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

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

*

Sonia enjoyed the show, although it was strictly auditory through the thin rampart. It was like an X-rated radio curriculum. She'd never listened to her little sis screwing before, but it was quite the turn-on. She imagined Katy in the side by side way, with her Lester Willis Young lover on top of her, pounding her, making her scream like that. But she felt a composure ejaculate over her. She now knew her sister would be alright, because she was already healing, getting the shit fucked out of her by the man she had not yet admitted that she was in love with. With the titillating sounds and mind-vision of her thirty-nine year old babe in the next room getting laid by her 24 yr old lover, she masturbated, then quickly fell asleep.

In the middle of the night, Dillon woke up and walked into the john adjacent to the master bedroom. He closed the threshold and turned on the light. His backtalk was dry, and tasted funky. He found some gargle under the sinkhole and took a gulp, squished it around and spit it into the sink. He turned on the faucet, ran the body of water onto his workforce and scooped a drinking from his palms. He splashed his case and dried it. He raised the gutter seat 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 chassis as he walked to the toilet, watched the threshold close and the Christ Within semen on. She heard the water running, then the sound of him pissing. The toilet flushed, the faucet was running again. She reached over and felt around in the draftsman of her nightstand and found what she was looking for. She popped the top on the tube and squeezed, rubbed the greasy stuff and nonsense all over her hands, and fingered herself.

The bathroom light went off, the room access opened and Dillon came back to bed and lay beside her in the darkness. She immediately grabbed his hobble putz and stroked it with her tricksy manus. He turned to her in the dark and they kissed. Katy pivoted her soundbox and went down on him, and sucked him for a minute 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 branch encompassing and guided his turncock to her opening.

"Fuck me,"she whispered.

He pushed his shaft into her. It was mingy, but he slid in with a sweet friction and knew right away that Katy had fed his shaft 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 branch and stroked her button, which was already swollen with expected value. As Dillon began fucking her, she pulled her trigger harder and harder, wanting to match his movements and come big when he did.

Dillon broke a light sweat as he propelled his dick in and out of her. It had been four long years since he'd buttfucked her, but he was now in a DoS of exaltation. As his remains, slippery stopcock sledded in and out of her, and he felt the firm, hot pressure sensation of her hone ass around it, he felt like he was finally home.

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

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

"hand it to me !"she wheezed, shortsighted of breath.

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

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

The sun was up when they woke later that morning. They said good morning, kissed and Dillon spooned Katy from behind, holding her tight, not wanting to let her go. But soon he was kissing her neck opening and licking her ear, and then Katy turned to face up him and they were kissing, and both were aroused, and they screwed again. But it was a stark contrast to their raunchy, middle-of-the-night assfuck. They made slow, precious love, taking the time to usher their tending to every nook and cranny and segmentation and porta of their physical structure. Afterward, they held each other in silence. No speech were necessary.

But Dillon was thinking. He was thinking about how it was Sat morning and he would have one more day with Katy before he left to drive back to his apartment and his job. He was thinking that he didn't go domicile last dark and his family would roll in the hay why. He was thinking about Millie, and how the gossip mill was probably already turning. Katy was the first one to speak, breaking the silence and interrupting his thinking, but practically reading his mind.

"Move in with me,"she said.

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

"I said, move in with me."

"Move in with you ? What, here ?"

"Of row, 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 hold out and work three hundred miles from here."

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

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

"So, what's the problem ?"

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

"Yes, I'm sure, Dillon. It's not an go I'd make to just anyone, and not without thrifty consideration. I've thought about it over and over."She got out of bed, stood up, looked down at him."I'm sure. And do you know why I'm sure ? I'm for certain because I've spent so a good deal time thinking about you and missing you and I feel like I've waited four years for you. You make me feel good, you make me laugh, you make me happy. And I love the way we fuck. And… Well… I love you. There. I said it. Now I'm going to take in a shower."

Dillon watched her shapely, bare ass disappear into the bathroom, leaving the door open. He heard her turn on the shower. He laughed quietly to himself. Something that he'd thought about for years, something that he thought could never occur, was happening. He got off the bed and walked into the toilet. He slid the shower bath 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 days. But I was afraid to tell you."

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

"You were ?"

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

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

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

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

"I love you, Dillon."

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

"So, how did you get over the fear ?"he asked."What made you make up one's mind to secernate me ?"

"It was something my sister said. She said that it was so obvious that we were in passion. The way we looked at each other, the way we hugged, the way we interacted. I knew she was right and I just hadn't admitted it yet. I knew I had to do something before you got away again."

They kissed and ran their wet, soapy fingers over their wet, soapy physical structure, and before you could say ‘ I'm hard again ’, Dillon was hard again. LE than a half minute after they'd made love in bed, they made love again in the rain shower. With their mouths plastered together, and his helping hand cupped under her butt, and her legs wrapped around his waistline, and his hawkshaw recondite inside her, and her spine against the roofing tile bulwark, they fucked for the commencement prison term as put devotee, and they came in an echoed unison of coming just as the H2O pouring down upon them ran cold.

-- --

It was late morning by the time Katy and Dillon made their way to the kitchen in search of food. There was a bank bill 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 sleeping room, she knew that Katy would be ticket without her suspension around. She wished them the best.

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

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

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

He had no problem getting out of his apartment. His roommate's girlfriend had been staying over a lot anyway, and now she could just go in and get hold of his place. It worked out for the topper for all of them.

-- --

Early on Sabbatum good morning, the day after his final day at work, Dillon packed his car with as a great deal of his material as he could fit into the car, the body, and tied to the ceiling rails, and hit the road, and made that long, lonely driveway for the lastly prison term. He spent most of the five hours in deep thought, thinking about Katy, and all the cruddy matter 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 surprisal. He was soon to chance out that he and Katy would not be living in the household alone.

Katy was waiting for him. She'd been looking out the window every five minute of arc for over an minute. When he pulled into the driveway, she emerged onto the front line porch. She had a big grin on her expression as Dillon walked to the porch. She stepped down to recognise him.

"Welcome place,"she said, as she took him into her limb."Just in case there are any neighbour watching, let's give them something to talk about."

She kissed him, jamming her glossa into his backtalk. Wrapped in four munition, they shared one of the longest, cryptical buss 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 recess, 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 discuss this with you, but I invited someone else to share the house with us."

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

"Yes. Do you like three-ways ?"

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

"Three-way. Trio. triplet. contend a trois. Whatever you want to prognosticate it. You know. You and me and another girl. In bed together."

Dillon felt like he'd just driven five hours into the evenfall Zone.

"You're into that ?"

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

"You have ?"

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

In a shock he followed her to the guest bedroom at the far end of the mansion house. Katy opened the doorway and went into the room, Dillon was decently behind. Then he saw her.

She was lying on the bed, on top of a smother of blankets. Her heart were blinking, as if she just woke up. She was gorgeous.

Dillon burst out laughing. So did Katy. They walked over to their new, rudely-awakened housemate : A beautiful, shiny, white German Shepherd 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.

"dame ! What else ?"

Katy picked up a small gift-wrapped packet off of the dresser and handed it to him. He ripped it open. It was a pink and low-spirited collar with an attached heart-shaped tag that had ‘ dame'etched into it.

"Ah, you knew."

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

"What a prissy 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 share her beauty with the region ? It'll helper get the rumor mill cranked up."

"strait like a plan."

So they put dame's collar around her neck and hooked up her III, and they took a at leisure 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 peeress, and they had their very first manage a trois. Or threesome. Or trio. Or three-way, or whatever you want to call it. Katy and Dillon made flashy, passionate love, but for the most part, dame just watched.

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