Note : This is a body of work of fabrication, events and quality are a mathematical product of author 's imagination. The only two character who have sex are over 20 years of age.

FOR C.J.

Early on Tues dayspring, Dillon's cell phone rang and woke him out of a dead slumber. It was too early to take a yell, and way too early for the rude awakening his ringtone was blaring from the nightstand next to his bed : The intro of Won't Get Fooled Again by The Who. No one in their properly mind calls this ahead of time. Why didn't I turn this damn earphone off live on nighttime ?, he wondered. But he was singular and looked at the headphone. The outcry was coming from a number he recognized. It was the land line in the house where he grew up. So he answered.

"Hi, Mom,"he said into the telephone set. He knew his begetter would never call him unless he suspected him of stealing his golf clubs.

"Good morning, Honey,"his mother said.

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

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

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

"C.J. died."

Dillon's nub sank. He and his mother sat in telephone set silence for a long moment. Finally, he asked,"When ?"

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

Another extended pause.

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

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

"poor Katy,"he repeated.

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

"Yes, Mom, Thank You. And please ascertain out the funeral placement 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 just thing 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 years younger, and his parents, Tanya and Miles. The textbook nuclear family. His parents still lived there. Dillon now lived in a township three hundred international nautical mile from there. He had moved away several years before under somewhat of a cloud. He thought it was the right thing to do at the prison term, considering the circumstances he faced. He thought if he moved away, someplace where nobody knew him, he could spend his days living his lifespan instead of trying to outlive his past.

When Dillon was a boy, a young brace moved in next threshold to them. The new neighbor, Katy and Cliff, were young marrieds in their 20, and despite the fact that they were nine or ten twelvemonth untried than his parents, they all soon became skillful neighbors and ally. And Dillon liked his new neighbors almost instantly. Because of Lady.

gentlewoman was a striking, beautiful white High German sheepman. Katy and drop 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 weeks, trying to bump dame's proprietor. No response. They were okay with that. By then, they loved lady, and Lady loved them.

Dillon fell in love with gentlewoman. 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 clock time, and she happily ran them down and returned them to him, and softly dropped them at his feet.

Dillon became the next-door-neighbor-all-around helper to Katy and drop-off. He tended to Lady of path, but also took care of many other chores to spend a penny a piffling money. He helped in the yard, weeded their garden, cleaned the deck, shoveled their driveway when it snowed, fed their Pisces the Fishes when they were away, among other things. drop traveled for his job, so oftentimes Katy was alone during the calendar week and Dillon was a big assistance.

When Katy became pregnant, Dillon was nine years old and got a doss down course on the birds 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 drive, he'd run over and carry her packages or grocery or whatever else she had, inside for her. She worked as a literal estate agent, so she was always lugging a bag fully of papers and files.

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

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

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

They bonded over those enceinte months. When Katy finally gave birth, she had a little boy. He was named after his sire. Clifford Jnr. Katy called him C.J. from the first. But it did not turn out to be the glad, blessed event everyone was expecting.

Before long it became obvious that something was not in good order with the little boy, and after umpteen tests and referrals and medico and prayer and fits of angst and economic crisis and optimism and hopelessness, they learned that their valued trivial boy had muscular dystrophy. And it wasn't the run-of-the-mill, everyday muscular dystrophy, which was bad enough, but it was the ugly, ruthless, evil, black sheep full cousin of M.D., the one that guaranteed a shortly life. Duchenne syndrome, they called it. C.J. was a very brainsick short boy.

-- --

After the phone call from his female parent, Dillon went to work that day and went through the movement for eight hours. He was a salesman for a company that sold lawn, garden and farm equipment, but he didn't sell anything that day. Not even close. His heart and mind were far away. About the solitary thing he accomplished was to order to admit a couple days off so he could go back home, or what was once his home, and attend the funeral.

He got back to his apartment that dark, ate a grilled tall mallow sandwich and a bowl of soup for dinner party, and did a cargo 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 jam a bag for the trip-up when his female parent called and told him the funeral plans. There would be viewings on each of the next two dark, Wednesday and Th, and the funeral would be Fri morning. He decided he would operate Wednesday, and drive there on Thursday for the viewing. If all went well he could wait on the funeral on Friday, and have the weekend to visit with his folks and maybe a protagonist or two.

-- --

The start few twelvemonth of C.J.'s life were a steady parade of doctor's situation, examination, downcast news and hopes for a miracle. It put a great strain on Katy and Cliff of course, and their matrimony began to suffer. Katy was a strong mom, but her unhappiness was a weight that became harder and harder to disguise. Cliff had a terrible metre coping with having a terminally-ill youngster, as if his spermatozoon were the drive of it and somehow made him less of a man. He appeared hinder and ashamed, and never bonded with his son. He traveled Thomas More and to a greater extent, and wassail more and more, distancing himself, trying to lessen the pain in the neck and desperation. As C.J. was growing up, his dad was not a good deal of a agent. His parents eventually separated, got back together, separated again. washout, Rinse, Repeat.

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

Dillon was amazed with C.J.'s noesis of sports, especially baseball and football game. Although he'd never play the games, even at the age of six or seven C.J. knew the dominion and all the players and their phone number and their stats and where they'd gone to college, and he asked smart interrogative. He knew the history of the sports, facts and events from way before his clock time, stuff of which Dillon had no clue. mother Nature had given C.J. a badly-damaged body, but she had also given him a brilliant and curious mind.

By the metre Dillon was a senior in luxuriously school, he was a superstar on the baseball team. Katy would bring C.J. to all the home games and would park his wheelchair in the exceptional spot the team had reserved for him, where he'd root for his team. The players would hail over to him and say hi, and considered him the team mascot and their numeral one fan.

Over the long time Dillon had spent century and hundreds of hr doing chores for Katy, and spending time talking with her and C.J. As a result, he came to realize two very important things.

One, C.J. was not just an unfortunate, disenable 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 felicitous child. He was a protagonist. A close Friend. Like the little brother he'd never had.

And two, he no longer just viewed Katy as the amazing mom next door who didn't talk down to him and paid him to do jobs that needed to be done around the house. He saw her differently now. She was a Friend, yes, but she was a fair sex. A firm, attractive woman. Some free flirting happened from clip to fourth dimension. So what if she's XV years older, he thought. No scathe done.

He found himself admiring her pretty grimace, trim body, firm white meat, and smashed ass. And he always noticed her fingernails. They were always manicured and neatly polished, and regardless of what colouration she'd chosen for her former seven fingers and her two thumb, her right pinky was always the same : Bright, fluorescent purple. It stood out like a beacon fire, and Dillon didn't know what it meant, but he liked it.

He didn't act on his desires, of course. Why would a thirties, semi-married woman with a vomit baby be interested in an xviii year old boy ? He tried to put her out of his mind. He went off to college and contemplate and got involved in a number of activeness. He partied and slept with versatile girl. But when he came base for holidays or summer vacations, he would always expend time next door with Katy and C.J.

When Dillon came home for the summer after his sophomore yr of college, he was twenty yr old. He went next door to travel to, and learned that the doctor had placed C.J. in a treatment installation for a few mean solar day for another battery of mental testing. That's when his function with Katy began.

-- --

It was a five minute drive. Dillon didn't remember almost of it, which kind of scared him. He had no recall of miles and Swedish mile of highway that had disappeared into his hind end view mirror. His mind was focused on what lay ahead. How was Katy holding up ? Would Cliff make a scene ? How would people 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 home parking lot at 6:30. He drove to the utmost end and parked his car. He sat, rested, waited. He reached to his right and picked up the small bottle of collar polish from the passenger backside. Neon purpleness. He shook it, uncapped it, and carefully applied it to the fingernail on his right pinky. He blew on it until it dried. Then he took a deep breathing place, straightened his tie, opened the door, got out, retrieved his mutant coat from the sweetener above the backseat window, and walked to the building.

-- --

Dillon got home on a Thursday afternoon in late May after completing his sophomore yr of college. In a week or two he'd receive his form and officially be a junior. He would be domicile for three months, and would set forth 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 next threshold. It hadn't been there earlier when he'd fetch house, which was not unusual, but Katy always made a compass point to have C.J.'s dinner ready at the same sentence every night, and now it was well past that clock time. He looked out the windowpane periodically, checking for Katy's car. At a petty after nine o'clock he noticed that her car was now in her private road. It was getting a bit late for a social birdsong, but when he saw the light go on in the den, he figured what the hell, he'd go over and say hi.

When Katy opened the door, he could tell right away that something was improper. Her blond hair was bunched into a cabbage Lucille Ball atop her read/write head, her blouse was wrinkled, her skimpy face looked stressed along with her fag out eyes.

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

She burst into rip. 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 header against his shoulder, and cried harder. He let her cry.

When her weeping subsided they went into the den. They sat on the couch, face by side. Katy explained that C.J. had had an onrush of some sort and couldn't breathe. She called 911. He was back in the infirmary. More tests, more CAT scan, more doctors. She was a nervous wreck and scared shitless. Dillon tried to calm her as best he could, tried to check her. drop-off was not around, as usual.

He noticed he was holding her hand. He looked at her slender fingers, her polish up nails. All of her nails were painted black, except one : Her right pinky was purple. He'd always been singular about this riding habit of hers, this purpurate little finger. He'd noticed it many times, and no matter whether the eternal rest of her nails were polished or not, her right pinky always was, and always stood out in brilliantly purpleness.

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

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

He squeezed her hand and pinkie. She squeezed back.

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

"Of course. The Ravens."

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

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

Katy shook her mind."My pitiful little boy,"she blurted, and burst into another rising tide of tears.

Dillon put his arm around her and let her cry, her head nestled against his neck. Neither said anything for a while. When her 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 glad I'm here."

"You're always so easy to blab out to."

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

"I know."She hesitated, played with his finger."But I feel so alone. I can't think back the last sentence I felt good. About anything."

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

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

Rubbery, was his first idea. Soft. Sensual. Not like most of the hard-lipped, pressure college fille kisses he'd had. Really nice, felt instinctive. His lips lingered on hers for a second before he backed away. Her eyes were blanket, two unblinking round 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. delight forgive me."

"Don't be blue, it's okeh,"she replied, and gently pulled his paw toward her."I like it. It felt undecomposed. I want to feel good."Her fingers laced deeper into his. She took a deep breathing spell and said,"Do it again."

Dillon tightened his handgrip on her shoulder, dug in, made for certain she felt it. He pulled her to him and their upper bodies touched, then melded. His hand went to her breast and he thumbed her stiff mamilla through the flimsy fabrics of her blouse and bra. When he put his face to hers, Katy's lips parted immediately and her knife slithered into his mouth. She slued around to face him, pulled him close, front-on-front, their body flush now, giving her tongue deeper depth. Dillon sucked her natural language, which was swirling like a lizard in his sassing. He felt her tits firmly against his thorax, her weapon around him, and her leg looped over his. The kiss went on, a duet of spit, until saliva oozed between their mouth and their groin were on luxuriously alert.

When their mouths finally separated, Katy peppered Dillon's side with kiss plenty, saying,"I need this. I want this."She pivoted her body, straddled his branch, sat on his lap, facing him. She felt his dick hard against her privates. She kissed him again with capable sassing, her glossa on a rampage, two hungry rima oris screwing while she ground her knoll onto his swollen tool and pressed her stoked bosom against his chest. The osculate went on, their hands roamed on backs and derriere, he was hard, she was wet.

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

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

Naked, their consistence plunged onto the bed. Katy's mouth was ravening, attacking his, sucking his tongue into her lip. Her spry hands and digit squeezed his ass, surrounded his prick. 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 withdraw command, pick up the rate. Pushing, attrition, overdoing.

"Hey,"Katy said warmly, running her finger's breadth through his inadequate, brown hair."Take it easy. Take 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 supple sassing hypnotizing him. With her hands on either slope of his headspring, she guided it downward until her jackass was in his grimace. She fingered her clit in front line of his face.

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

Dillon dove in. He took her well up fruit into his oral cavity, molded his lips around it, tasted it with soft caresses, and she hissed when he slipped his spit inside her. He planted his hands under the brass of her ass and held tight, mashing face to twat. He explored her hungry, squirmy pussy with his tongue, and savored her wet, salty savour. He kept at it, stayed down there, and wouldn't come up for air until he'd begin what he was after.

Katy's body writhed with pleasure as he ate her. Her script were firmly adhered to his mind as she smushed her genitals into his face. She started grinding her pussy into his nerve, and soon was pumping it, fucking his backtalk. Dillon sucked her like a straw.

She shrieked when she came. Her cum streamed out of her. He felt her flush on his side, was surprised by its intensiveness, like none he'd experienced before. Katy was surprised too ; even though it had been a patch, her trunk shook with the power of it, and she had an orgasm like she'd not had in a long, recollective 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 sass. As they kissed, his body atop hers, she wrapped her hand around his cock and fed it into her soupy pussy. It slid into her with slick rest, balls deep.

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

She wrapped her legs around his like tentacles and squeezed, tightening like a boa, as if to get every shoemaker's last drop of succus from a lemon. Dillon took the not-so-subtle hint. He clenched her derriere in his hands and started drilling her.

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

It went on, and on, their genitals colliding on a pursuance for release, and they kissed as they fucked. Dillon was going to dump a burden of his come into this beautiful, mature fair sex, he knew that, but he slowed for a time, not wanting to blow his top too soon. Her pleasance would come before his.

Two sweaty torso throbbing. Two rima oris and tongues plastered together. Two men clenching two butt cheeks, four branch tightly entwined. One thrusting cock-filled cunt.

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

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

She came in another torrent, barely less than her foremost. She pinched his cock with her out-of-shape pussy 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 tank was emptied, Dillon collapsed onto the bed beside her. They were lying on their sides, looking at each other, 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 metre. 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 other, closed their eyes, and drifted off, resting in the glow of their lovemaking.

*

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

It was only ten minutes later. His weapons system were still around her, and hers were around him. Their heart were inch apart.

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

"I haven't eaten since early this morning, had a danish pastry and a coffee from the machines at the infirmary. Wasn't hungry all day, but I am now. How ‘ bout I fix us some tuna Fish sandwiches ?"

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

"What's funny ?"Katy asked.

"tunny fish."

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

"Yes, I like it. I've just always thought it was odd that we refer to tuna as tuna Pisces. It's not like we could disconcert tuna fish with anything other than a Pisces the Fishes. screw what I mean ?"

"Um, I guess so."

"I mean, we say bluefish or Rock fish because those Holy Scripture have dissimilar meanings. But there's no former meaning for tuna, so why add the fish to it ? We don't say ‘ flounder fish'or ‘ haddock Pisces the Fishes'or ‘ trout Fish ’. We don't say ‘ hamburger cow ’, or ‘ pork chop pig ’. So why do we say Opuntia tuna Pisces the Fishes ?"

"I really couldn't Tell you Dillon,"she said."Maybe it's the same cause we don't say ‘ Pisces chops ’."

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

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

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

"There. Now you rest a bit, big thinker. Just lie back and speculate on the expectant tunny Pisces conundrum while I make us a couple sandwiches."

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

*

Their function lasted most of the summer. They had to be discerning, of course, so once or twice a week Dillon would sneak over belated at night, long after C.J. was benumbed. They would make jazz as quietly as possible, and after they both came a couple times he would sneak back out.

No one suspected a thing until it all blew up one Saturday night in early August. They were in the midsection of a fervid sixty-nine when a drunken drop showed up unpredicted and caught them in the act. He went ballistic, screaming, throwing things, breaking things, calling them name calling, threatening them. He chased a scantily clad Dillon out of the business firm, screaming at him, told him to ‘ get the hell out before I kill you ’.

drop made for sure the whole neighborhood and half the Town knew all about it. Millie, the neighborhood gossip had a theater of operations day. Katy and Dillon were shamed and ridiculed, she was a swinger and he was a randy college cock who couldn't keep his tool in his pants. Dillon's parents were greatly embarrassed too, which didn't helper him at dwelling, and didn't help their relationship with their neighbour.

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

-- --

Standing on the breed porch of the funeral home, Dillon took another farsighted, deep breath before he opened the smoked glass threshold and entered. He walked tentatively through the vestibule and down the antechamber, passing several people he didn't recognize, until he found the the right way room. He signed the invitee Bible outside the door, then entered.

He scanned the crowded room and didn't see any comrade faces at first, but soon sensed a cool vibration. The feeling of eyes upon him, read/write head turning quickly away when he glanced at them. He looked around, searching for Katy but not finding her, feeling self-conscious, like he was in a fishbowl. Then a male voice to his left broke his concentration.

"What are you doing here, asshole ? I can't trust you had the clump to read your face around here."

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

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

"Well, make it snappy, Lover Boy. We don't wan na have a prospect. 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 line of a paries of flowers, talking to an former couple that looked vaguely comrade. He started walking toward her and the gang of Edgar Albert Guest parted like the Red Sea before him. He stopped about eight feet away from her.

It had been nearly four eld, but suddenly the meaning of the idiomatic expression ‘ a sight for painful eyes'hit him like a lightning bolt. She still looked unbelievable. Tired, but strong and beautiful. She wore a long-sleeved black dress that hugged her slim figure. Her blond whisker was whipped back in a Gallic turn of events, and her earrings matched the gloss of her sky-blue eyes.

He stood there, taking her in. Once she saw him, their heart locked. The couple she was talking to noticed it, looked at him, then back at her, and faded away. They held their regard for a long, frozen consequence, oblivious to the viewer in the room. Dillon raised his justly mitt, with his purple-nailed pinkie extended. Katy did the same with her properly helping hand, the bright purple brilliantly contrasting the black Polish on the eternal rest of her nails. There was a sad smiling on her fount. The spectators were amused and confused by the gestures.

He walked toward her, right into her arms. The several node watched their tightly-wrapped bodies as they hugged. Dillon felt the bullets of her chest against him, and whiffed the olfactory property of fresh fruit in her hair's-breadth. Their trunk clenched and their tears flowed. They didn't want to let go.

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

"Of grade. 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 plug-in and letter meant so much to him."

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

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

"It seemed only right that he fag his baseball tee shirt,"Katy said."It was his favorite bit of habiliment. He treasured it."

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

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

"Of course,"he said.

"Can I ask a party favour ?"

"Sure. Anything."

"It's a big one."

"What is it ?"

"Would you speak at the service ?"

"Really ? Me ?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know you won't."

"You better get back to your former guests,"he said, and gave her deal a firm squeeze."I'll see you tomorrow."

He walked across the way and out of the fish bowl with his question held high, and he felt the the great unwashed of eyes in the room covering him like shrink wrap.

-- --

Dillon stayed at his parents'mansion that nighttime, although he didn't talk to them much, only for a few proceedings. He told them he'd been asked to speak at the funeral table service and he had to educate. So he went to the spare sleeping room with pen and paper and tried to drop a line something down, something meaningful, but nothing of substance would come. His head was a confuse, adrift in his memories of C.J. There were too many experiences and conversations to take in and organize. He was bone-tired, from the recollective cause, his lone grief, and his visit to the fishbowl. He fell off to sleep without accomplishing much.

He slept like lapidify woods. He woke up early, refreshed, and jotted down a list of bullet points on three-by-five circuit card. He didn't know if he'd speak for two minutes or twenty. He trusted that his muse would show up up when the clock time was right.

Dillon walked into the funeral home twenty minutes early and was surprised at the shift the place had gone through in xvi time of day. The walls that had separated the viewing rooms had disappeared and it was three or four times the size of the fishbowl he'd visited the dark before. It was now one big elbow room, like an auditorium, lined with words and rows of folding chairperson on two sides separated by a center aisle, fix to fit a large widening. The crowd was trickling in. A dead tike 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 secondly 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 often to Katy. And to me too, to all of us. The minister will speak and then he'll announce when it's your tour. You're right after him. Good luck !"

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

Once the property was full and SRO, Katy was ushered down the aisle to the front row on the left field English, and the show got on the road, right on meter. Cliff was seated on the right side, next to a young woman.

Dillon sat through the early part of the armed service in a hazy stupor. There were some remarks, then some medicine, then the Rev spoke for fifteen minutes or so, reciting * * * * * * * * * * * ure and all of the appropriate, generic, cliched, God-has-a-plan mumbo jumbo. Then suddenly, he heard his name called.

He could almost experience the inhale breaths of the hushed attendants on his goose-fleshed arms as he strode to the podium. Once there, he looked out at the packed house, impressed by the size of it of it. Every seat was taken and others stood around the incline and back of the room. His hands sifted through the pockets 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 rehearse. He would take in to wing it.

He cleared his pharynx, adjusted the mike, raised it up. Took a deep breath. flighty natural process. Then he began.

"When I was asked to talk here today, I immediately said yes, but I was also immediately scared. And now that I'm here, before all of you, this amazingly large group, all here to pay your respects, 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 scratch with that.

"When I was a boy, Katy and drop-off moved into the house next door to my family. We could tell right away that they were outstanding people and would be great neighbors, and my family quickly accepted them into the region and into our lives. They both worked full-time and drop-off traveled a lot, so I would do odd Book of Job for them. I'd wash their cars, cut their sens and weed their garden in the summer, shovel their driveway when it snowed, bring care 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 crystallize that he was not a convention, intelligent child, but instead had an ugly, nasty disease, well-nigh of their time was devoted to his special needs, his doc appointments, his medical examination tryout, his handling, et cetera. Gradually, I was asked to do Thomas More and to a greater extent chores around their house and property because they just didn't have the clock time. I mended fencing, washed windows, cleaned out rainfall sewer, raked leaves, stained the deck, you name it.

"As C.J. got older, he would sit outside in his wheelchair, on the strawman porch or on the deck out in the back yard, and he'd watch me do work. And we would let the cat out of the bag. We talked a lot. And by the prison term I was in my teens and C.J. was six years old, I realized that female parent Nature may have given him an unhealthy consistency, but at the same time she had given him a brilliant untested mind.

"We talked about many things, especially sports. Baseball and football were his favorites. The Baltimore Ravens were his dearie team, The purple Pain. That's the reason for the royal nail polish."

He raised his right field little finger for all to see.

"Even at that young age, he could read at a pretty high level and he impressed me with his intelligence agency. His wit, his vocabulary, his noesis. He knew every player, knew their numbers and their stats and their heights and weight unit and where they went to college. He would amaze me and surprise me with historical facts about the players and the teams and the sports, poppycock I never knew, and I thought I knew a lot.

"And his attitude was always plus. I can't remember him ever feeling sorry for himself. But I do remember intellection, how can this fiddling guy, whose body was so weak, be so strong ? I began to realize that C.J. was not just the kid next door, not just some young booster. He was the slight 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 jumping and play ball with other kids, and have to use a wheelchair ? He looked down for a moment, then up at me. And with traces of tears in his centre, he said, ‘ No, I don't get mad. But I get sad sometimes. Sad because it is so hard on my parents. I hate being such a burden to them ’. Even with all the adversity he'd faced in his life story, he didn't think about himself. He thought about others. He was more concerned with how it affected his Mom and Dad.

"I played football and baseball game in high-pitched school and he followed my teams like he did the pros, and we talked about every game. In the outflow of my senior year, as my baseball team was in training for the upcoming season, C.J., who was nine or ten twelvemonth old by this fourth dimension, told me he was going to issue forth to all the home games and tooth root for our team. I don't know if I believed that that would really occur or not, but I went to see my coach a few days before our first 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 youth sprightliness, and how much he liked our squad, and I'd like to pass him a hat. Coach said, Hell, Dillon, you don't need to pay for it, and he not only gave me a hat, but gave me a whole squad 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 school principal and held that uniform in his hands, and fondled the alphabetic character on the breast of the jersey, he treasured it. And that season, Katy made sure he made it to every habitation game. Coach cleared a special box adjacent to our dugout and the stands, just for him, and to accommodate his wheelchair, and you could see the joy on his face when the players and tutor would follow over to shake his bridge player and say Hi to him. He came to every home game that season, dressed in his uniform and cap, to root us on. He is wearing that very Saami 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 home run to win the game one-to-nothing. After the biz 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 fuck what C.J. told me ? He said he was proud of me ! Can you think that ? He was proud of me !

"wellspring, I felt the emotion rise up in me like a tatty floodlight. All I did was win a ballgame. But I thought of all he had been through in his young life, and of all the long suit and perseveration he had to have every single day, just to get through it all. I was on the verge of crying. I told him thank you, and that I was proud of him too. But I don't know if he knew how truly lofty of him I was, or how much I respected him, and loved him. I hope he knows that, and knows how often I've missed him.

"We all face hills and valleys in our aliveness. secure times, bad times, glad times, sad times. Ups and down. And whenever I reach a low stage, a time when I feel bad, or overwhelmed, and want to drop by the wayside or give up or palpate gloomy for myself, I think of C.J. And it makes me find better, it makes me feel inviolable, and suddenly thing don't seem so bad. I feel like that's a talent he gave me.

"I should possess 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 supporter, my minuscule sidekick. This world could use a few more citizenry like C.J."

You could have heard a pin drop as Dillon left the stump with all center upon him. He was choked up, full of emotion, the binge were bubbling in his eyes, 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 grinning. 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 residue of the service, which was a blur of give-and-take, music, and a supplicant. Afterwards, he stood outside the funeral habitation, chatting with his parents and his sister Irene. In a issue of minutes, three unlike 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 nutrient and socialisation and condolence, but they didn't stay too long. But they were there long enough for Cliff to get up to Dillon and actually excuse, and to congratulate and thank him for his eulogy. As they were about to go forth, Katy pulled him aside and asked him to come up back later, after the other guests were gone. He said he would.

Sonia, who planned to stay with Katy for a duo twenty-four hours 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, stillness girl,"Katy said."Please. It's been four years."

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

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

-- --

It took a few hour before all of the guest had finally left Katy's house. Dillon figured Katy could use a little down clip, so he waited another 60 minutes before he went over. It was early evening when he knocked on her room access. ‘ C'mon in ’, he heard Katy birdcall from inside.

They were in the animation room, to the left of the anteroom. Sonia was seated in an easy death chair facing Katy, who was on the sofa. Mellow malarkey was playing softly. Katy patted the lounge cushion to her left, and Dillon took a rear end next to her.

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

For the next hour they sipped lemonade and talked about the day : The service, the preacher, the invitee. Katy was happy with the way everything had gone, especially proud of that cliff had behaved himself. She then recapped for Dillon the high spot and lowlights of her divorcement. She was relieved she would not hold to deal with Cliff again.

When the pitcherful was hollow, Sonia excused herself."Well, I'm going to turn in,"she said, as she stood up."It's been a crazy few days. Goodnight Sis. Goodnight Dillon, and thank you again for your pean. Everyone agreed it was fantastic. C.J. would make 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 script in hers, the offset time they'd touched since he'd arrived."It was so very, and so tender. Everyone was in tears."

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

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

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

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

Their rim parted and their hungry mouths went into overdrive, the once-familiar tongue becoming reacquainted. In a beat, their bodies turned and meshed and their arms locked around each other. Dillon felt her nipple against his breast and pushed his hardening cock against her, and as if they were in a time car, they instantly picked up where they'd left off long ago.

"You know,"she said, as Dillon sucked her earlobe,"I know it sounds crazy, and I know it's been four years, but as soon as I laid oculus on you at the funeral abode last nighttime, 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 knockout like she remembered.

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

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

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

"Good."

Katy put her face rightfield up to his. She said :"Dillon, you and I are the two people on world 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 chamber, shutting the room access behind them. They tore their clothes off as they french-kissed, each savoring the taste of the other.

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

It all came back in an minute. He knew exactly what she liked, and all of her sweet spots. She moaned with his touch and her consistence was soon writhing and wouldn't stop consonant. He kissed her quivering thighs. He traced his tongue along the inside of her moistened lower berth lips, before plunging it inside her. Katy squeaked with pleasure, and Dillon drunk in the smell and taste of her, like a sip of cool sweetwater after four years in the desert.

He sucked her clit into his back talk, and just like the old days, Katy fell into the sway and fucked his cheek with a rhythm method of birth control matching his. It was as if no clip had passed.

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

"Ugh,"Katy groaned. She had her ovolo in his ears and her fingers webbed around the dorsum of his head as he ate her.

Dillon hummed a slow tune into her cunt, played her clitoris like a kazoo. Katy groaned loudly and squirmed some more. When she felt his digit enroll her asshole her cunt was about to explode.

It didn't take long for her to come up the first time. It had been a long patch since she'd had sex and her loin were set off well-chosen. And Dillon knew how to labor 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 epithet when her dike broke. He felt the wet, warm rush of her saved-up cum surround his tongue and rinse his font, and he tasted her juicy funk again, finally. He never thought this would happen again, but here they were. A thought process flowed through his mind briefly as he lapped up her juices. He thought how he could never, ever get more intimate with a fair sex than he was at that second : Her clit in his mouth, his finger up her ass, her cum on his face. But it was a pass off thought. His hawkshaw was swollen and strong and achy. It was prison term to fuck.

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

No job. Dillon was fix to raid. But he didn't want to rush matter. He wanted to make it live on, realize it beautiful. He kissed her, slid his hands back under her ass. He lingered, took his metre, kissing her with his dick inside her and his fingers once again feeling their ways around her pin-up butt. He wanted to jazz her slowly. They fell into a easy, loving rhythm.

"You like this ?"

"I love this."

backrest and forth, up and down, in and out, taking their time, kissing, smiling, only gradually picking up speed. Dillon knew he would consume to come soon, so he picked up his pace and started banging her harder, then harder, and Katy was okay with that. Her pegleg were wrapped around his, constricting, as she slung her body at him over and over as his hammer rammed her ripe twat.

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

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

"Yeah, babe, cave in it to me. Give it to me."

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

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

Her coming was another twisty bodyquake, high up on the Katy shell. Her cum flowed big, and oozed out of her. Dillon felt it surround his cock and drip down his orb. It puddled on the bed.

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

*

Sonia enjoyed the display, although it was strictly audile through the cut rampart. It was like an X-rated receiving set programme. She'd never listened to her little sister nooky before, but it was quite the turn-on. She imagined Katy in the next room, with her young buff on top of her, pounding her, making her scream like that. But she felt a equanimity come over her. She now knew her sister would be alright, because she was already healing, getting the mother fucker fucked out of her by the man she had not yet admitted that she was in passion with. With the titillating phone and mind-vision of her thirty-nine yr old sister in the next room getting laid by her twenty-four year old lover, she masturbated, then quickly fell asleep.

In the middle of the Nox, Dillon woke up and walked into the bathroom adjacent to the master key bedroom. He closed the room access and turned on the light. His oral cavity was dry, and tasted funky. He found some gargle under the swallow hole and took a swig, squished it around and ptyalize it into the sink. He turned on the spigot, ran the weewee onto his hand and scooped a drinkable from his ribbon. He splashed his look and dried it. He raised the toilet arse and took a making water, then lowered the seat. He flushed, hoping he wouldn't wake Katy.

But Katy was awake. She'd stirred when he got out of bed, watched his sexy shape as he walked to the bathroom, watched the room access close and the brightness level come on. She heard the water system running, then the phone 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 thermionic valve and squeezed, rubbed the oleaginous material all over her hands, and fingered herself.

The toilet light went off, the door opened and Dillon came back to bed and lay beside her in the iniquity. She immediately grabbed his hobble dick and stroked it with her cunning hand. He turned to her in the nighttime and they kissed. Katy pivoted her body and went down on him, and sucked him for a minute until his cock reached its maximal rigour, distance and girth. Then she lay back beside him and pulled him on top of her. She splayed her peg blanket and guided his cock to her opening.

"nookie me,"she whispered.

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

Katy reached down between her leg and stroked her clit, which was already swollen with expectation. As Dillon began fucking her, she pulled her trigger harder and harder, wanting to jibe his movements and come big when he did.

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

He picked up his step and he grunted when he felt his come start to rise.

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

"reach it to me !"she wheezed, dead of breath.

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

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

The sun was up when they woke later that cockcrow. They said unspoiled morning, kissed and Dillon spooned Katy from behind, holding her tight, not wanting to let her go. But soon he was kissing her neck and licking her ear, and then Katy turned to face him and they were kissing, and both were aroused, and they screwed again. But it was a stark direct contrast to their raunchy, middle-of-the-night assfuck. They made slow, preciously love, taking the time to show their attending to every nook and chap and segmentation and opening of their soundbox. Afterward, they held each other in silence. No words were requirement.

But Dillon was thinking. He was thinking about how it was Sat morn and he would have got one Sir Thomas More day with Katy before he left to drive back to his apartment and his job. He was thinking that he didn't go habitation last dark and his folk would have it off why. He was thinking about Millie, and how the gossip pulverization was probably already turning. Katy was the first one to verbalize, breaking the muteness and interrupting his intellection, but practically reading his mind.

"Move in with me,"she said.

That got Dillon's attention. Did he hear her right ?"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 inexpensive rent, the house is paid for. That's one positive that came out of my divorce. What's the subject, you don't want to ?"

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

"So ? Quit. You can find a job here, if the troupe can't relocate you. Or beneficial yet, get a very estate license, we'll study together. I do pretty well, I'm sure you would too. We'd make a pit 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 sure about this ?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Dillon. It's not an offer I'd make believe to just anyone, and not without heedful thoughtfulness. 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 surely because I've spent so lots fourth dimension thinking about you and missing you and I feel like I've waited four old age for you. You make me palpate dependable, you make me laugh, you make me happy. And I love the way we fuck. And… Well… I love you. There. I said it. Now I'm going to take a shower."

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

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

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

"You were ?"

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

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

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

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

"I love you, Dillon."

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

"So, how did you get over the fear ?"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 love. The way we looked at each other, the way we hugged, the way we interacted. I knew she was right and I just hadn't admitted it yet. I knew I had to do something before you got away again."

They kissed and ran their wet, soapy fingers over their wet, soapy body, and before you could say ‘ I'm hard again ’, Dillon was hard again. Less than a half hour after they'd made love in bed, they made sexual love again in the shower. With their oral fissure plastered together, and his hand cupped under her arse, and her legs wrapped around his waist, and his cock deep inside her, and her back against the tile rampart, they fucked for the first metre as committed lover, and they came in an recall unison of sexual climax just as the water supply pouring down upon them ran cold.

-- --

It was late morning by the time Katy and Dillon made their way to the kitchen in hunt of food. There was a bill from Sonia on the kitchen table. She was gone. The gist of the banknote was that by the strait she'd heard coming out of Katy's bedroom, she knew that Katy would be mulct without her hanging around. She wished them the best.

The rest of the weekend was a nonstop flight love-in. They rarely left the chamber. 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 recount them that he was going to be their fresh next door neighbor.

He left at four a.m. on Mon so he would get to the office on time. He had a interfering day planned. In addition to several appointments, he had to typecast up his alphabetic character of surrender and give his two-week notice. His executive program 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 demesne track were being given so he could hit the ground running when he got back.

He called his mother after the kickoff calendar 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 lady friend had been staying over a lot anyway, and now she could just impress in and take his place. It worked out for the best for all of them.

-- --

Early on Saturday forenoon, the day after his last day at work, Dillon packed his car with as much of his stuff and nonsense as he could fit into the car, the trunk, and tied to the roof rails, and hit the route, and made that long, lonely drive for the last clock time. He spent most of the five hr 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 sign, and he didn't know it, but he was in for a big surprisal. He was soon to find out that he and Katy would not be living in the sign alone.

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

"Welcome dwelling house,"she said, as she took him into her arms."Just in case there are any neighbor watching, let's turn over them something to talk about."

She kissed him, jamming her clapper into his oral cavity. Wrapped in four arms, they shared one of the long, recondite kisses they'd ever had. When they finally ended the osculation, they were laughing.

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

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

Katy took Dillon's script 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 somebody else to parcel the house with us."

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

"Yes. Do you like three-ways ?"

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

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

Dillon felt like he'd just driven five minute into the gloaming geographical zone.

"You're into that ?"

"Sure, why not. Don't vexation, 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 nifty in bed. Come on, I'll introduce you."

In a fog he followed her to the guest bedchamber at the far end of the hall. Katy opened the door and went into the elbow room, Dillon was mighty behind. Then he saw her.

She was lying on the bed, on top of a jumble of blankets. Her center 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 language sheepman puppy !

"You had me going, you stinker,"he said."I'll larrup 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 lowly gift-wrapped bundle off of the bureau and handed it to him. He ripped it open. It was a pink and spicy leash with an tie cordate 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 of life and share her beauty with the neighborhood ? It'll help get the rumour mill cranked up."

"Sounds like a plan."

So they put peeress's choker around her cervix and hooked up her tierce, and they took a easygoing stroll around the pulley-block. And when they got back to the home, 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 carry off a trois. Or threesome. Or trio. Or three-party, or whatever you want to prognosticate it. Katy and Dillon made loud, passionate love, but for the most part, Lady just watched.

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