bank bill : This is a oeuvre of fiction, issue and characters are a product of author 's imagination. The lone two lineament who have sex are over 20 geezerhood of age.

FOR C.J.

Early on Tuesday morning, Dillon's cell phone rang and woke him out of a abruptly sleep. It was too early to look at a Call, and way too early for the rude awakening his ringtone was blaring from the nightstand next to his bed : The intro of Won't Get Fooled Again by The Who. No one in their right mind calls this early. Why didn't I turn this damn phone off final stage dark ?, he wondered. But he was rum and looked at the earphone. The call was coming from a bit he recognized. It was the landline in the house where he grew up. So he answered.

"Hi, Mom,"he said into the speech sound. He knew his sire would never shout him unless he suspected him of stealing his golf clubs.

"goodness morning, honey,"his mother said.

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

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

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

"C.J. died."

Dillon's pith sank. He and his mother sat in telephone silence for a retentive import. Finally, he asked,"When ?"

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

Another extended interruption.

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

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

"Poor Katy,"he repeated.

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

"Yes, Mom, Thank You. And delight recover out the funeral arrangements and let me bang 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 matter to do ?"

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

-- --

Dillon grew up in a modest, split-level menage in a suburban, middle-class neck of the woods. Just him, his babe Irene, who was two years younger, and his parents, Tanya and Miles. The textbook atomic family. His parents still lived there. Dillon now lived in a Town three hundred knot from there. He had moved away several geezerhood before under somewhat of a cloud. He thought it was the right thing to do at the time, considering the circumstances he faced. He thought if he moved away, someplace where nonentity knew him, he could spend his Clarence Day living his living instead of trying to outlive his past.

When Dillon was a boy, a young distich moved in adjacent door to them. The new neighbors, Katy and Cliff, were young marrieds in their twenties, and despite the fact that they were nine or ten year younger than his parents, they all soon became good neighbors and admirer. And Dillon liked his new neighbor almost instantly. Because of Lady.

Lady was a striking, beautiful snowy German shepherd. Katy and Cliff had found the dog on the side of a road, injured, bleeding, evidently hit by a car. They rescued her and took her to a vet. They got her patched up, and took her home to mend. They ran ads for workweek, trying to discover ma'am's owner. No response. They were okay with that. By then, they loved dame, and Lady loved them.

Dillon fell in sexual 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 tennis balls a million prison term, and she happily ran them down and returned them to him, and softly dropped them at his animal foot.

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

When Katy became meaning, Dillon was nine years old and got a crash class on the hiss and the bees and soon became her right-hand man. He helped her out as much as he could when Cliff wasn't around. Whenever he noticed her pulling into her driveway, he'd run over and carry her software system or groceries or whatever else she had, inside for her. She worked as a genuine land broker, so she was always lugging a bag to the full 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 do by him like a youngster. She was actually occupy in what he had to say.

"Do you need a boy or a missy ?"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 giving birth, she had a little boy. He was named after his father. Clifford Junior. Katy called him C.J. from the starting line. But it did not turn out to be the happy, blessed event everyone was expecting.

Before long it became obvious that something was not right with the little boy, and after umteen trial and referrals and doctors and appeal and tantrum of angst and imprint and optimism and hopelessness, they learned that their precious little boy had brawny dystrophy. And it wasn't the run-of-the-mill, casual muscular dystrophy, which was bad enough, but it was the ugly, ruthless, evil, opprobrious sheep cousin of M.D., the one that guaranteed a unretentive life. Duchenne syndrome, they called it. C.J. was a very brainsick small boy.

-- --

After the headphone margin call from his mother, Dillon went to work that day and went through the motions for eight hours. He was a salesman for a companionship that sold lawn, garden and farm equipment, but he didn't sell anything that day. Not even close. His heart and thinker were far away. About the only thing he accomplished was to stage to take a twosome mean solar day off so he could go back home, or what was once his home, and attend the funeral.

He got back to his apartment that night, ate a grilled high mallow sandwich and a bowl of soup for dinner, and did a cargo of laundry. He was happy his roommate wasn't around because he wasn't in the mood to chitchat. He had just started to take a bag for the trip when his mother called and told him the funeral plan. There would be viewings on each of the next two nights, Wednesday and Thursday, and the funeral would be Friday morning. He decided he would work Wednesday, and cause there on Thursday for the wake. If all went well he could attend the funeral on Friday, and have the weekend to confab with his kinfolk and maybe a friend or two.

-- --

The first few years of C.J.'s life story were a unfaltering parade of doctor's business office, exam, grim news and hopes for a miracle. It put a great strain on Katy and Cliff of course, and their marriage began to suffer. Katy was a hard mom, but her sorrow was a weighting that became harder and operose to disguise. Cliff had a terrible clock time coping with having a terminally-ill kid, as if his sperm were the drive of it and somehow made him less of a man. He appeared embarrassed and ashamed, and never bonded with his son. He traveled more and Sir Thomas More, and drank to a greater extent and more, distancing himself, trying to decrease the botheration 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, rinsing, Repeat.

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

Dillon was amazed with C.J.'s cognition of sportswoman, especially baseball and football game. Although he'd never play the plot, even at the age of six or seven C.J. knew the regulation and all the players and their numbers racket and their stats and where they'd gone to college, and he asked impertinent question. He knew the history of the sports, facts and events from way before his time, clobber of which Dillon had no hint. mother Nature had given C.J. a badly-damaged body, but she had also given him a brilliant and odd mind.

By the metre Dillon was a senior in high school, he was a star on the baseball team. Katy would bring in C.J. to all the home plate games and would park his wheelchair in the special daub the team had reserved for him, where he'd rootage for his team. The participant would come over to him and say hi, and considered him the team mascot and their number one fan.

Over the geezerhood Dillon had spent C and hundreds of hours doing task for Katy, and outgo time talking with her and C.J. As a result, he came to actualize two very important things.

One, C.J. was not just an unfortunate, disabled kid who happened to live next room access. No, he was much more than that. He was smart, he was witty, and despite everything he'd been through, he was a happy tiddler. He was a Friend. A close up friend. Like the piffling comrade he'd never had.

And two, he no longer just viewed Katy as the amazing mom side by side room access who didn't public lecture down to him and paid him to do jobs that needed to be done around the home. He saw her differently now. She was a friend, yes, but she was a woman. A strong, attractive woman. Some innocent flirting happened from time to metre. So what if she's fifteen years older, he thought. No harm done.

He found himself admiring her pretty typeface, cut down eubstance, firm breasts, and squiffy ass. And he always noticed her fingernails. They were always manicured and neatly polished, and regardless of what color she'd chosen for her other seven digit and her two quarter round, her right pinky was always the Saami : 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 row. Why would a thirty-something, semi-married fair sex with a sick child be interested in an eighteen year old boy ? He tried to put her out of his idea. He went off to college and studied and got involved in a number of activities. He partied and slept with versatile girlfriend. But when he came home for holiday or summer vacation, he would always pass time next door with Katy and C.J.

When Dillon came family for the summer after his sophomore year of college, he was XX age old. He went next doorway to visit, and learned that the medico had placed C.J. in a discourse facility for a few days for another stamp battery of trial run. That's when his affair with Katy began.

-- --

It was a five hour crusade. Dillon didn't remember most of it, which kind of scared him. He had no anamnesis of miles and miles of highway that had disappeared into his buttocks sight mirror. His mind was focused on what lay ahead. How was Katy holding up ? Would Cliff make a view ? How would citizenry react when he showed up ? Would he be welcomed, or sneered at ? Would his parents be embarrassed, or would they sustain him ?

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

-- --

Dillon got home on a Thursday good afternoon in previous May after completing his sophomore year of college. In a workweek or two he'd receive his grade and officially be a junior. He would be home for three month, and would start his summertime job in a few days. After dinner with his parents, he noticed that Katy's car still was not parked in her private road next doorway. It hadn't been there earlier when he'd start out home, which was not unusual, but Katy always made a point to own C.J.'s dinner party ready at the same time every night, and now it was well past that clock time. He looked out the windowpane periodically, checking for Katy's car. At a lilliputian after nine o'clock he noticed that her car was now in her private road. It was getting a bit recent for a societal shout, but when he saw the light go on in the den, he figured what the hell, he'd go over and say hi.

When Katy opened the room access, he could tell right away that something was wrong. Her blond hair was bunched into a cultivated cabbage ball atop her caput, her blouse was wrinkled, her tip face looked stressed along with her trite eyes.

"Hi, Dillon,"she said, when she opened the room access. Her face up 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 curves 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 bust subsided they went into the den. They sat on the couch, side by side. Katy explained that C.J. had had an onset of some sort and couldn't breathe. She called 911. He was back in the hospital. more mental testing, Thomas More CAT scan, more Doctor. She was a flighty wreck and scared shitless. Dillon tried to sedate her as best he could, tried to secure her. drop-off was not around, as usual.

He noticed he was holding her hired man. He looked at her slender finger, her shine nails. All of her nails were painted black, except one : Her right pinky was purpleness. He'd always been curious about this wont of hers, this imperial pinky. He'd noticed it many clip, and no issue whether the rest period 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 fingers 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 pinkie. She squeezed back.

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

"Of form. The Ravens."

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

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

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

Dillon put his arm around her and let her cry, her head nestled against his cervix. Neither said anything for a spell. When her bout abated she wiped her nerve with her fingertips.

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

"It's okeh. I'm sword lily I'm here."

"You're always so easy to let the cat out of the bag to."

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

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

They sat quietly for a bit. dustup escaped him. He nestled his cheek into her tomentum. It smelled ripe, like mature melons. Then, by instinct, as if it were the most legitimate thing to do, he kissed the top of her head.

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

Rubbery, was his world-class thought. Soft. Sensual. Not like to the highest degree of the hard-lipped, forced college miss kisses he'd had. Really nice, felt natural. His lips lingered on hers for a moment before he backed away. Her middle were all-encompassing, two unblinking round pocket billiards, boring into his. Oops, Dillon thought, now I've done it. He pulled back.

"Oh Katy, I'm sorry,"he said."I had no rightfulness to do that. please forgive me."

"Don't be sorry, it's okay,"she replied, and gently pulled his hand toward her."I like it. It felt good. I want to palpate good."Her fingerbreadth laced profoundly into his. She took a oceanic abyss breather and said,"Do it again."

Dillon tightened his travelling bag on her articulatio humeri, dug in, made sure she felt it. He pulled her to him and their pep pill dead body touched, then melded. His hand went to her breast and he thumbed her clay tit through the slight textile of her blouse and bra. When he put his facial expression to hers, Katy's rim parted immediately and her natural language slithered into his mouth. She slued around to face him, pulled him close, front-on-front, their soundbox flush now, giving her knife deeper deepness. Dillon sucked her tongue, which was swirling like a lizard in his mouth. He felt her mammilla firmly against his bureau, her blazon around him, and her leg looped over his. The kiss went on, a duet of tongues, until spit oozed between their back talk and their groyne were on high alert.

When their sassing finally separated, Katy peppered Dillon's look with kiss raft, saying,"I need this. I want this."She pivoted her body, straddled his legs, sat on his lap, facing him. She felt his dick hard against her genital organ. She kissed him again with undecided backtalk, her natural language on a violent disorder, two hungry mouths screwing while she ground her mound onto his swollen cock and pressed her stoked boob against his chest. The kiss went on, their hands roamed on backs and butts, he was hard, she was wet.

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

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

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

He suddenly realized that he was in way over his head. What to do ?, he wondered. This is a mature woman, not some dumb college broad with no more experience than he. He wanted to please her, he had to. He decided to take control, foot up the step. Pushing, grinding, overdoing.

"Hey,"Katy said warmly, running her finger's breadth through his unretentive, dark-brown hair's-breadth."Take it wanton. exact your time. 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 back talk hypnotizing him. With her mitt on either slope of his header, she guided it downward until her cunt was in his face. She fingered her clitoris in presence of his face.

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

Dillon peacenik in. He took her swollen fruit into his backtalk, molded his sassing around it, tasted it with soft caresses, and she hissed when he slipped his tongue inside her. He planted his custody under the cheeks of her ass and held tight, mashing face to twat. He explored her hungry, squirmy slit with his spit, and savored her wet, salty Fucus vesiculosus. He kept at it, stayed down there, and wouldn't come up for air until he'd produce what he was after.

Katy's body writhed with pleasance as he ate her. Her custody were firmly adhered to his head as she smushed her fork into his look. She started grinding her kitty-cat into his face, and soon was pumping it, fucking his oral fissure. Dillon sucked her like a straw.

She shrieked when she came. Her cum streamed out of her. He felt her gush on his face, was surprised by its intensity, like none he'd experienced before. Katy was surprised too ; even though it had been a spell, her body shook with the power of it, and she had an orgasm like she'd not had in a long, long metre, 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 hired hand around his cock and fed it into her hokey grab. It slid into her with pat easiness, balls deep.

"nookie 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 stinker. Dillon took the not-so-subtle hint. He clenched her rear end in his hands and started drilling her.

He was slinging it pretty good. His fork was pounding hers and she was rolling with it, in sync, fucking right back at him, every inch of her body into it. Their roll in the hay took on a staccato calendar method, like rim blastoff on a snare, smack smack big H smooch, while the bed springs played hi-hat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That was wonderful,"she said.

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

"Oh, please…"

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

"Really ?"

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

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

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

*

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

It was only ten minute later. His weapons system were still around her, and hers were around him. Their eyes were in apart.

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

"I haven't eaten since early this morning time, had a Danish and a umber from the automobile at the hospital. Wasn't hungry all day, but I am now. How ‘ bout I fix us some tuna Pisces the Fishes sandwiches ?"

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

"What's funny remark ?"Katy asked.

"Tuna 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 Opuntia tuna Pisces. It's not like we could fuddle tuna fish with anything other than a Fish. roll in the hay what I mean ?"

"Um, I guess so."

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

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

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

"Such a deep mind you are,"she said, taking his putz in her mitt."A cryptical thinker with another big erection."

She went down on him and took his cock into her lip. 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 spurts into Katy's rima oris and pharynx. 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 contemplate on the nifty Opuntia tuna fish conundrum while I make us a couple sandwiches."

After they ate their sandwiches and poker chip, they fucked again. Then it was getting late, and Katy suggested that Dillon leave so that no rumors got started, no thing how straight they might be. He agreed that it was a effective idea.

*

Their liaison lasted most of the summertime. They had to be discreet, of line, so once or twice a week Dillon would snarf over late at night, long after C.J. was numb. They would crap love as quietly as possible, and after they both came a couple meter he would sneak back out.

No one suspected a affair until it all blew up one Saturday night in early Aug. They were in the middle of a fiery soixante-neuf when a drunken drop showed up unannounced and caught them in the act. He went ballistic, screaming, throwing things, breaking matter, calling them names, threatening them. He chased a half-clothed Dillon out of the house, screaming at him, told him to ‘ get the hell out before I kill you ’.

drop made for certain the whole neighborhood and half the town knew all about it. Millie, the neighborhood gossip had a field day. Katy and Dillon were shamed and ridiculed, she was a tramp and he was a horny college prick who couldn't keep his shaft in his knickers. Dillon's parents were greatly embarrassed too, which didn't assist him at home, and didn't help their family relationship with their neighbors.

C.J. was greatly upset by this bout of consequence. The family unit hullabaloo was bad enough, but he would also be losing his dependable 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 spread over porch of the funeral home base, Dillon took another recollective, late breath before he opened the smoke-cured trash door and entered. He walked tentatively through the vestibule and down the residence, passing several mass he didn't recognize, until he found the right room. He signed the client book outside the door, then entered.

He scanned the crowded room and didn't see any associate faces at foremost, but soon sensed a poise vibe. The feeling of eyes upon him, heads turning quickly away when he glanced at them. He looked around, searching for Katy but not finding her, feeling self-aware, like he was in a fishbowl. Then a manful interpreter 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 Cliff. He wore an old, wrinkled seersucker suit, and looked bloated, grueling. There was beer on his breath.

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

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

cliff wobbled away and Dillon eyed the far end of the way. He spotted Katy off to the side, standing in presence of a wall of flowers, talking to an older couple that looked vaguely companion. He started walking toward her and the bunch of client parted like the Red Sea before him. He stopped about eight feet away from her.

It had been nearly four eld, but suddenly the substance of the musical phrase ‘ a ken for raw eyes'hit him like a lightning dash. She still looked incredible. Tired, but strong and beautiful. She wore a long-sleeved black dress that hugged her melt off design. Her blonde hair was whipped back in a french twist, and her earrings matched the color of her cerulean eyes.

He stood there, taking her in. Once she saw him, their heart locked. The distich she was talking to discover it, looked at him, then back at her, and faded away. They held their gaze for a farsighted, frozen moment, oblivious to the looker in the room. Dillon raised his right paw, with his purple-nailed pinky extended. Katy did the same with her veracious hand, the bright purpleness brilliantly contrasting the pitch-dark polish on the rest of her nails. There was a sad smile on her brass. The spectators were amused and confused by the gestures.

He walked toward her, right into her munition. The various guests watched their tightly-wrapped bodies as they hugged. Dillon felt the bullets of her breasts against him, and whiffed the smell of overbold yield in her hair. Their bodies 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 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 lineup and letters meant so a great deal to him."

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

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

"It seemed only properly that he break his baseball tee shirt,"Katy said."It was his ducky objet d'art of clothing. He treasured it."

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

"Can I ask a favor ?"

"Sure. Anything."

"It's a big one."

"What is it ?"

"Would you speak at the avail ?"

"Really ? Me ?"

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

"Are you surely ? 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 hoot 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 effective get back to your other guests,"he said, and gave her deal a firm squeeze."I'll see you tomorrow."

He walked across the room and out of the fish bowl with his foreland held high, and he felt the pack of oculus in the room covering him like shrink wrap.

-- --

Dillon stayed at his parents'business firm that night, although he didn't talk to them much, only for a few minutes. He told them he'd been asked to mouth at the funeral service and he had to prepare. So he went to the spare bedroom with pen and paper and tried to write something down, something meaningful, but nil of substance would come. His mind was a jumble, adrift in his memory board of C.J. There were too many experiences and conversations to ingest and organize. He was bone-tired, from the long drive, his lonely grief, and his sojourn to the fishbowl. He fell off to sleep without accomplishing much.

He slept like petrify Sir Henry Wood. He woke up early, refreshed, and jotted down a lean of bullet full stop on three-by-five carte. He didn't know if he'd speak for two minutes or 20. He trusted that his muse would show up when the time was right.

Dillon walked into the funeral domicile twenty mo early and was surprised at the transformation the place had gone through in sixteen hour. The walls that had separated the wake elbow room had disappeared and it was three or four times the size of the fishbowl he'd visited the Night before. It was now one big elbow room, like an auditorium, lined with rows and rows of folding chairs on two sides separated by a nub aisle, ready to accommodate a large turnout. The crowd was trickling in. A perfectly child was quite a draw.

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

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

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

Once the place was full and SRO, Katy was ushered down the aisle to the front row on the give English, and the show got on the route, right on time. Cliff was seated on the proper side, succeeding to a young woman.

Dillon sat through the ahead of time voice of the service in a hazy haze. There were some remark, then some music, then the Rev spoke for fifteen minutes or so, reciting * * * * * * * * * * * ure and all of the reserve, generic, cliched, God-has-a-plan mumbo jumbo. Then suddenly, he heard his gens called.

He could almost feel the breathe in breathing spell of the quieten attendants on his goose-fleshed arms as he strode to the podium. Once there, he looked out at the tamp down family, impressed by the size of it of it. Every seat was taken and others stood around the sides and back of the room. His work force sifted through the pockets of his cap, 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 rehearsed. He would have to wing it.

He cleared his pharynx, adjusted the microphone, raised it up. read a bass breath. Nervous activity. Then he began.

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

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

"When I was a boy, Katy and Cliff moved into the house following door to my menage. We could tell right away that they were capital masses and would be large neighbor, and my family quickly accepted them into the neighborhood and into our lives. They both worked full-time and Cliff traveled a lot, so I would do odd Book of Job for them. I'd wash their cars, cut their grass and weed their garden in the summertime, shovel their driveway when it snowed, pack aid of their dog and feast 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 rule, levelheaded child, but instead had an ugly, nasty disease, to the highest degree of their time was devoted to his especial needs, his medico naming, his medical tests, his treatment, et cetera. Gradually, I was asked to do Thomas More and more chores around their house and place because they just didn't have the metre. I mended fencing, washed windows, cleaned out rain gutters, raked leaves, stained the pack of cards, you name it.

"As C.J. got elder, he would sit outside in his wheelchair, on the figurehead porch or on the deck out in the spinal column yard, and he'd see me crop. And we would blab out. 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 take given him an unhealthy body, but at the same clock time she had given him a brilliant untested mind.

"We talked about many things, especially sports. Baseball and football were his front-runner. The Baltimore Ravens were his dearie squad, The purpleness hurting. That's the cause for the purple nail polish."

He raised his decently pinky for all to see.

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

"And his mental attitude was always overconfident. I can't remember him ever feeling sorry for himself. But I do call back thought, how can this little guy, whose body was so debile, be so strong ? I began to realize that C.J. was not just the kid future threshold, not just some young friend. He was the little comrade 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 spiel testis with early fry, and have to use a wheelchair ? He looked down for a instant, then up at me. And with vestige of rent in his eyes, he said, ‘ No, I don't get mad. But I get sad sometimes. Sad because it is so surd on my parents. I hate being such a burden to them ’. Even with all the adversity he'd faced in his life-time, 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 and baseball game in in high spirits school and he followed my team like he did the pros, and we talked about every game. In the springiness of my senior year, as my baseball team was in training for the upcoming season, C.J., who was nine or ten eld old by this time, told me he was going to amount to all the home plot and root 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 24-hour interval before our first plot. I asked him if I could buy an supernumerary 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 Whitney Moore Young Jr. life, and how lots he liked our team, and I'd like to give him a hat. Coach said, Hell, Dillon, you don't need to pay for it, and he not only gave me a hat, but gave me a altogether team uniform, the smallest one he had. When I gave it to C.J., he grinned from ear-to-ear. He put the cap on his head and held that uniform in his hands, and fondled the letters on the breast of the New Jersey, he treasured it. And that season, Katy made sure he made it to every home secret plan. Coach cleared a especial box adjacent to our dugout and the pedestal, just for him, and to accommodate his wheelchair, and you could see the joy on his face when the instrumentalist and charabanc would arrive over to shake his hand and say Hi to him. He came to every nursing home game that season, dressed in his uniform and cap, to steady down us on. He is wearing that very same jersey today.

"There was one game late in the time of year, a low-scoring pitcherful'duel. I pitched a two-hitter and hit a solo house run to win the plot one-to-nothing. After the biz and a mild solemnization, I went over to his box. Katy and C.J. both had big grins on their faces, well-chosen as I'd ever seen them. And do you fuck what C.J. evidence 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 wink alluvion. All I did was win a new ballgame. But I thought of all he had been through in his young liveliness, and of all the strength and pertinacity he had to have every individual day, just to get through it all. I was on the sceptre of tears. I told him thank you, and that I was proud of him too. But I don't know if he knew how truly proud of him I was, or how much I respected him, and loved him. I hope he knows that, and knows how much I've missed him.

"We all face hill and valleys in our lives. Good times, bad times, gladiolus clip, sad fourth dimension. Ups and pile. And whenever I reach a low degree, a meter when I feel bad, or overwhelmed, and want to take leave or hand up or feel sorry for myself, I think of C.J. And it makes me finger better, it makes me feel stronger, and suddenly things don't seem so bad. I feel like that's a gift he gave me.

"I should experience told him that I loved him. I regret that. I never told him that I loved him. But I did. And I always will. He was my Friend, my little Brother. This globe could use a few More multitude like C.J."

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

Dillon sat through the rest of the service, which was a fuzz of words, music, and a prayer. Afterwards, he stood outside the funeral dwelling, chatting with his parents and his sister Irene. In a matter of mo, three different people came up to him and congratulated him on his eulogy. One said it was the best he'd ever heard.

Dillon and his family went to Katy's house afterwards for some food and socializing and condolences, but they didn't stay too long. But they were there long enough for Cliff to come up to Dillon and actually apologize, and to congratulate and give thanks him for his eulogy. As they were about to leave, Katy pulled him aside and asked him to hail back later, after the former Edgar Guest were gone. He said he would.

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

"So what, I can read you like a book of account. Trust me, you will. It's all over your aspect, 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 former, like you'd never let go. And he loves you too, otherwise he wouldn't be here. So go for it. He may be untried, but he's a cutie."

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

-- --

It took a few time of day before all of the node had finally left Katy's house. Dillon figured Katy could use a piffling 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 outcry from inside.

They were in the living room, to the left wing of the hall. Sonia was seated in an gentle chair facing Katy, who was on the sofa. Mellow malarkey was playing softly. Katy patted the sofa shock absorber to her leftfield, and Dillon took a seat adjacent 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 60 minutes they sipped lemonade and talked about the day : The armed service, the preacher, the guests. 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 have to deal with Cliff again.

When the mound was empty, Sonia excused herself."wellspring, I'm going to call on in,"she said, as she stood up."It's been a crazy few days. Goodnight Sis. Goodnight Dillon, and thank you again for your encomium. 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 address, Dillon,"Katy said, after Sonia left. She took his hand in hers, the first clip they'd touched since he'd arrived."It was so real, and so cutter. Everyone was in tears."

"I was so unquiet,"he said."I forgot my tone. I left them in the car."

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

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

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

Their lips parted and their thirsty mouths went into overdrive, the once-familiar clapper becoming reacquainted. In a New York minute, their dead body turned and meshed and their weaponry locked around each other. Dillon felt her tits against his thorax and pushed his hardening pecker against her, and as if they were in a time simple machine, they instantly picked up where they'd left off long ago.

"You know,"she said, as Dillon sucked her earlobe,"I know it sounds demented, and I know it's been four years, but as soon as I laid middle on you at the funeral home last 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 severely like she remembered.

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

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

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

"Good."

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

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

They rose and Katy led him by his 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.

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

It all came back in an instant. He knew exactly what she liked, and all of her sweetly patch. She moaned with his touch and her body was soon writhing and wouldn't occlusion. He kissed her quivering thigh. He traced his tongue along the inside of her moistened lower lips, before plunging it inside her. Katy squeaked with delight, and Dillon inebriate in the look and taste of her, like a sip of aplomb sweetwater after four years in the desert.

He sucked her clit into his mouth, and just like the old daytime, Katy fell into the tilt and fucked his grimace with a rhythm matching his. It was as if no sentence had passed.

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

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

Dillon hummed a slow melody into her pussy, played her clit like a kazoo. Katy groaned loudly and squirmed some more. When she felt his fingerbreadth participate her asshole her pussy was about to explode.

It didn't take long for her to hail the number one time. It had been a long patch since she'd had sex and her loins 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, fond hurry of her saved-up cum surround his tongue and rinse his boldness, and he tasted her juicy Funk again, finally. He never thought this would happen again, but here they were. A thought flowed through his mind briefly as he lapped up her juices. He thought how he could never, ever get more intimate with a woman than he was at that import : Her clit in his mouth, his fingerbreadth up her ass, her cum on his face. But it was a fleeting opinion. His dick was swollen and hard and achy. It was fourth dimension to fuck.

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

No problem. Dillon was ready to bust. But he didn't want to rush affair. He wanted to spend a penny it net, gain it beautiful. He kissed her, slid his hands back under her ass. He lingered, took his time, kissing her with his pecker inside her and his fingers once again feeling their ways around her lovely target. He wanted to make love her slowly. They fell into a soft, loving rhythm.

"You like this ?"

"I love this."

Back and forth, up and down, in and out, taking their fourth dimension, kissing, smiling, only gradually picking up speed. Dillon knew he would have to add up soon, so he picked up his footstep and started banging her harder, then harder, and Katy was okay with that. Her branch were wrapped around his, constricting, as she slung her body at him over and over as his cock rammed her advanced 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, child, chip in it to me. Give it to me."

His body shook with each hammered spurt. When his nuts were drained, his body, still wavering, was zapped and telling him to rest, but he did not. He wanted Katy to do again and he knew how to gain that find. 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 behind. Then she bellowed, ugh…ugh…ugh… with each of his thrusts.

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

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

*

Sonia enjoyed the show, although it was strictly auditive through the reduce paries. It was like an X-rated tuner program. She'd never listened to her picayune sis fuck before, but it was quite the turn-on. She imagined Katy in the future room, with her young fan on top of her, pounding her, making her scream like that. But she felt a calm seed over her. She now knew her sis would be alright, because she was already healing, getting the asshole fucked out of her by the man she had not yet admitted that she was in dearest with. With the titillating audio and mind-vision of her 39 year old sister in the next room getting laid by her 24 year old lover, she masturbated, then quickly fell asleep.

In the middle of the night, Dillon woke up and walked into the lavatory adjacent to the sea captain bedroom. He closed the door and turned on the light. His mouth was dry, and tasted funky. He found some gargle under the sink and took a draught, squished it around and pitter-patter it into the sink. He turned on the spigot, ran the weewee onto his hired man and scooped a drink from his palms. He splashed his face and dried it. He raised the toilet fanny and took a passing water, then lowered the hindquarters. He flushed, hoping he wouldn't wake Katy.

But Katy was awake. She'd stirred when he got out of bed, watched his sexy chassis as he walked to the toilet, watched the threshold close and the Light come on. She heard the water running, then the sound of him pissing. The bathroom flushed, the faucet was running again. She reached over and felt around in the drawer of her nightstand and found what she was looking for. She popped the top on the tube and squeezed, rubbed the greasy clobber all over her hands, and fingered herself.

The bathroom light went off, the door opened and Dillon came back to bed and lay beside her in the shadow. She immediately grabbed his hitch prick and stroked it with her glib hand. He turned to her in the night and they kissed. Katy pivoted her body and went down on him, and sucked him for a bit until his shaft reached its level best unfeelingness, length and girth. Then she lay back beside him and pulled him on top of her. She splayed her legs all-embracing and guided his cock to her opening.

"screwing me,"she whispered.

He pushed his prick into her. It was pixilated, but he slid in with a odorous clash and knew right away that Katy had fed his prick into her ass. He kissed her again, deeply, tenderly, and she moaned as he pushed himself all the way in.

Katy reached down between her legs and stroked her clitoris, which was already swollen with expectation. 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 fret as he propelled his cock in and out of her. It had been four long days since he'd buttfucked her, but he was now in a land of rapture. As his stiff, slippery cock sledded in and out of her, and he felt the firm, hot imperativeness of her perfect ass around it, he felt like he was finally home.

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

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

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

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

When he pulled out of her, Katy was still plucking her clit like it was an galvanizing bass, reaching for her climax. Dillon was about to put his mouth down there and do his thing, when Katy howled like a wounded wildcat and her torso shivered and she came in the nighttime. They quickly fell asleep.

The sun was up when they woke later that first light. 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 present him and they were kissing, and both were aroused, and they screwed again. But it was a staring direct contrast to their raunchy, middle-of-the-night assfuck. They made slow, cute love, taking the fourth dimension to show their attending to every nook and cranny and cleavage and orifice of their bodies. Afterward, they held each other in secrecy. No words were necessary.

But Dillon was thinking. He was thinking about how it was Sat dawn and he would have one more day with Katy before he left to force back to his apartment and his job. He was thinking that he didn't go place last night and his kinsperson would know why. He was thinking about Millie, and how the gossip mill was probably already turning. Katy was the first one to speak, breaking the secretiveness and interrupting his thoughts, but practically reading his mind.

"movement in with me,"she said.

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

"I said, move in with me."

"move in with you ? What, here ?"

"Of course, here. Where else ?"

"Really ?"

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

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

"So ? Quit. You can come up a job here, if the company can't relocate you. Or better yet, get a real demesne 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 problem. Just unexpected, I guess. Are you sure about this ?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Dillon. It's not an go I'd clear to just anyone, and not without careful considerateness. I've persuasion about it over and over."She got out of bed, stood up, looked down at him."I'm sure. And do you bed 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 days for you. You make me feel estimable, 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 look at a shower."

Dillon watched her shapely, nude ass disappear into the bathroom, leaving the door open. He heard her bout on the shower. 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 titmouse 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 oceanic abyss, wet wing-dinger, as the weewee pounded them.

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

"It was something my babe said. She said that it was so obvious that we were in passion. The way we looked at each former, 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 digit over their wet, soapy dead body, and before you could say ‘ I'm hard again ’, Dillon was hard again. less than a half hour after they'd made passion in bed, they made lovemaking again in the exhibitioner. With their sass plastered together, and his mitt cupped under her laughingstock, and her ramification wrapped around his waist, and his hawkshaw deep inside her, and her book binding against the tile paries, they fucked for the first clock time as attached devotee, and they came in an echoed unison of climax just as the water system pouring down upon them ran cold.

-- --

It was recent morning by the clock time Katy and Dillon made their way to the kitchen in search of solid food. There was a note from Sonia on the kitchen board. 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 fine without her hanging around. She wished them the best.

The balance of the weekend was a nonstop flight love-in. They rarely left the bedchamber. 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 secernate them that he was going to be their young adjacent door neighbor.

He left at four a.m. on Monday so he would get to the office on meter. He had a fussy day planned. In addition to several engagement, he had to type up his letter of surrender and give his two-week bill. 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 find out when and where the real estate of the realm courses were being given so he could hit the ground running when he got back.

He called his mother after the first of all 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 business firm, and never came back. She also said Millie was on the case.

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

-- --

Early on Sabbatum aurora, the day after his last day at 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 cause for the finale time. He spent most of the five hours in mysterious thought, thinking about Katy, and all the tight things they were going to do when he got there. It was mid-afternoon by the time he got to Katy's sign of the zodiac, and he didn't know it, but he was in for a big surprise. He was soon to discover out that he and Katy would not be living in the house alone.

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

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

She kissed him, jamming her tongue into his mouthpiece. Wrapped in four coat of arms, they shared one of the longest, mystifying candy kiss they'd ever had. When they finally ended the candy kiss, they were laughing.

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

They both turned toward Millie's home, three doorway down on the corner, and waved. They knew she was probably peeking through one of her drapery, 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 part the mansion with us."

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

"Yes. Do you like three-ways ?"

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

"Three-way. troika. deuce-ace. carry off a trois. Whatever you want to name it. You know. You and me and another lady friend. In bed together."

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

"You're into that ?"

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

"You have ?"

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

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

She was lying on the bed, on top of a jumble of blanket. Her eyes were blinking, as if she just woke up. She was gorgeous.

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

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

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

"Lady ! What else ?"

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

"Ah, you knew."

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

"What a nice 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 portion her mantrap with the region ? It'll help get the rumour James Mill cranked up."

"phone like a plan."

So they put Lady's collar around her neck and hooked up her threesome, and they took a leisurely stroll around the block. And when they got back to the house, Dillon dragged Katy into the bedroom. They tore each others'clothes off and they jumped into bed, along with Lady, and they had their very first manage a trois. Or triplet. Or III. Or three-way, or whatever you want to phone it. Katy and Dillon made loud, passionate love, but for the most part, Lady just watched.

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