bank bill : This is a body of work of fiction, events and characters are a Cartesian product of writer 's mental imagery. The only two characters who have sex are over 20 years of age.

FOR C.J.

Early on Tuesday morning, Dillon's cell earpiece rang and woke him out of a dead sleep. It was too early to demand a call, and way too early for the rude awakening his ringtone was blaring from the nightstand next to his bed : The presentation of Won't Get Fooled Again by The Who. No one in their right mind calls this early. Why didn't I turn this shucks phone off concluding nighttime ?, he wondered. But he was queer and looked at the phone. The call 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 headphone. He knew his Fatherhood would never call him unless he suspected him of stealing his golf game clubs.

"Good dayspring, love,"his mother said.

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

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

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

"C.J. died."

Dillon's ticker sank. He and his female parent sat in telephone silence for a long minute. 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 middle."Have you spoken to her ?"

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

"poor people Katy,"he repeated.

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

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

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

"I'm coming back for it."

"Are you sure that's the flop affair to do ?"

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

-- --

Dillon grew up in a small-scale, split-level house in a suburban, middle-class neighborhood. Just him, his Sister Irene, who was two years younger, and his parents, Tanya and stat mi. The textbook nuclear family. His parents still lived there. Dillon now lived in a townsfolk three hundred Admiralty mile from there. He had moved away several years before under somewhat of a cloud. He thought it was the justly thing to do at the time, considering the circumstances he faced. He thought if he moved away, someplace where nobody knew him, he could spend his Day living his life instead of trying to outlive his past.

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

Lady was a collide with, beautiful white 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 heal. They ran ads for weeks, trying to find ma'am's proprietor. No reply. They were okay with that. By then, they loved gentlewoman, and Lady loved them.

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

Dillon became the next-door-neighbor-all-around benefactor to Katy and cliff. He tended to Lady of course, but also took caution of many other chore to make a little money. He helped in the yard, weeded their garden, cleaned the deck of cards, shoveled their driveway when it snowed, fed their Pisces the Fishes when they were away, among other things. drop-off traveled for his job, so oftentimes Katy was alone during the week and Dillon was a big assist.

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

Over the calendar month, as her abdomen grew, Dillon had conversations with Katy like he'd never before had with an adult. She didn't talking down to him, or treat him like a nestling. She was actually interested in what he had to say.

"Do you require a boy or a lady friend ?"he asked her one time.

"I don't attention,"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 great months. When Katy finally gave birthing, she had a lilliputian boy. He was named after his father. Clifford junior. Katy called him C.J. from the starting time. But it did not turn out to be the well-chosen, bless upshot everyone was expecting.

Before farseeing it became obvious that something was not right with the little boy, and after umteen test and referrals and Doctor and prayers and fits of angst and depression and optimism and hopelessness, they learned that their cute slight boy had mesomorphic dystrophy. And it wasn't the run-of-the-mill, everyday muscular dystrophy, which was bad enough, but it was the ugly, ruthless, evilness, black sheep cousin of M.D., the one that guaranteed a short lifespan. Duchenne syndrome, they called it. C.J. was a very disgusted piffling boy.

-- --

After the phone song from his mother, Dillon went to work out that day and went through the question for eight hours. He was a salesman for a fellowship that sold lawn, garden and farm equipment, but he didn't sell anything that day. Not even close. His spirit and mind were far away. About the only affair he accomplished was to arrange to take a couple twenty-four hours off so he could go back home, or what was once his house, and attend the funeral.

He got back to his apartment that night, ate a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of soup for dinner, and did a load of wash. He was felicitous his roomy wasn't around because he wasn't in the mood to chit-chat. He had just started to pack a bag for the trip when his mother called and told him the funeral plans. There would be wake on each of the adjacent two Night, Wednesday and Th, and the funeral would be Friday morning. He decided he would work Wednesday, and drive there on Thursday for the viewing. If all went well he could see the funeral on Friday, and have the weekend to chatter with his folks and maybe a friend or two.

-- --

The showtime few years of C.J.'s life were a steady parade of Doctor of the Church's offices, examination, grim news and hopes for a miracle. It put a great melody on Katy and Cliff of class, and their wedlock began to suffer. Katy was a strong mom, but her gloominess was a weight that became harder and strong to mask. Cliff had a terrible time coping with having a terminally-ill child, as if his spermatozoan were the reason of it and somehow made him LE of a man. He appeared embarrassed and ashamed, and never bonded with his son. He traveled more and more, and booze more and more, distancing himself, trying to lessen the pain and desperation. As C.J. was growing up, his dad was not much of a factor. His parents eventually separated, got back together, separated again. race, rinse, Repeat.

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

Dillon was amazed with C.J.'s knowledge of sport, especially baseball and football game. Although he'd never play the secret plan, even at the age of six or seven C.J. knew the rules and all the player and their Book of Numbers and their stats and where they'd gone to college, and he asked ache questions. He knew the story of the sports, facts and result from way before his clock time, stuff of which Dillon had no clew. mother Nature had given C.J. a badly-damaged trunk, but she had also given him a brilliant and rummy mind.

By the sentence Dillon was a elder in senior high school day, he was a genius on the baseball game squad. Katy would make for C.J. to all the home games and would park his wheelchair in the particular spot the team had reserved for him, where he'd root for his team. The musician would come over to him and say hi, and considered him the team mascot and their number one fan.

Over the years Dillon had spent C and hundreds of minute doing task for Katy, and disbursal meter talking with her and C.J. As a upshot, he came to realize two very of import thing.

One, C.J. was not just an unfortunate, handicap 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 fry. He was a friend. A close Friend. Like the lilliputian comrade he'd never had.

And two, he no longer just viewed Katy as the mystify mom next door who didn't talking down to him and paid him to do jobs that needed to be done around the mansion. He saw her differently now. She was a Friend, yes, but she was a woman. A strong, attractive woman. Some guiltless flirting happened from time to time. So what if she's XV class older, he thought. No harm done.

He found himself admiring her jolly fount, trim body, house breasts, and mingy 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 pollex, her right pinky was always the Sami : Bright, fluorescent purpleness. It stood out like a lighthouse, and Dillon didn't know what it meant, but he liked it.

He didn't act on his desires, of course. Why would a mid-thirties, semi-married char with a sick minor 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 activities. He partied and slept with various female child. But when he came domicile for vacation or summer vacations, he would always pass time succeeding door with Katy and C.J.

When Dillon came home for the summertime after his soph year of college, he was twenty geezerhood old. He went future door to visit, and learned that the doctor had placed C.J. in a treatment facility for a few daytime for another battery of tests. That's when his liaison with Katy began.

-- --

It was a five hour drive. Dillon didn't commend most of it, which kind of scared him. He had no recollection of nautical mile and miles of highway that had disappeared into his rear thought mirror. His intellect was focused on what lay ahead. How was Katy holding up ? Would Cliff realize a aspect ? How would people react when he showed up ? Would he be welcomed, or sneered at ? Would his parents be embarrassed, or would they plunk for him ?

He'd timed things perfectly. The viewing was scheduled for six- until eight p.m., and he pulled into the funeral home parking lot at 6:30. He drove to the furthest end and parked his car. He sat, rested, waited. He reached to his rightfulness and picked up the low bottle of nail gloss from the passenger rear end. Neon Purple. He shook it, uncapped it, and carefully applied it to the fingernail on his right little finger. He blew on it until it dried. Then he took a mystifying breath, straightened his tie, opened the threshold, got out, retrieved his sport coat from the crotchet above the backseat windowpane, and walked to the building.

-- --

Dillon got home on a Thursday afternoon in late May after completing his soph year of college. In a hebdomad or two he'd take in his grades and officially be a Junior. He would be dwelling house for three month, and would start his summertime job in a few days. After dinner party with his parents, he noticed that Katy's car still was not parked in her drive next door. It hadn't been there earlier when he'd gotten house, which was not strange, but Katy always made a point to get C.J.'s dinner ready at the same meter every Night, and now it was well past that time. He looked out the windowpane periodically, checking for Katy's car. At a little after nine o'clock he noticed that her car was now in her driveway. It was getting a bit late for a mixer call, but when he saw the light go on in the den, he figured what the hell, he'd go over and say hi.

When Katy opened the room access, he could evidence right away that something was wrong. Her blond hair was bunched into a cabbage formal atop her headway, her blouse was wrinkled, her run face looked stressed along with her fag eyes.

"Hi, Dillon,"she said, when she opened the door. Her face 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-class honours degree, but he held her tightly, felt the bend of her body tough against his. She hugged him back, put her head against his shoulder, and cried harder. He let her cry.

When her tears subsided they went into the den. They sat on the sofa, side by position. Katy explained that C.J. had had an onslaught of some sorting and couldn't breathe. She called 911. He was back in the hospital. to a greater extent trial run, more scans, to a greater extent Dr.. She was a spooky wreck and scared shitless. Dillon tried to calm her as best he could, tried to assure her. Cliff was not around, as usual.

He noticed he was holding her hand. He looked at her slender fingerbreadth, her polished nails. All of her nails were painted black, except one : Her right wing pinky was violet. He'd always been curious about this habit of hers, this purple pinky. He'd noticed it many sentence, and no matter whether the balance of her nails were polished or not, her right pinky always was, and always stood out in bright purpleness.

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

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

"Of course of action. The Ravens."

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

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

Katy shook her promontory."My poor little boy,"she blurted, and burst into another flowage 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 soul to talk to."

"It's okay. I'm glad I'm here."

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

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

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

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

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

Rubbery, was his first of all thought. Soft. Sensual. Not like almost of the hard-lipped, forced college girl kisses he'd had. Really nice, felt instinctive. His backtalk lingered on hers for a instant before he backed away. Her eyes were wide, two unblinking round pools, 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 sorry, it's okeh,"she replied, and gently pulled his script toward her."I like it. It felt good. I want to feel good."Her fingers laced bass into his. She took a deep breathing space and said,"Do it again."

Dillon tightened his suitcase on her shoulder, dug in, made for sure she felt it. He pulled her to him and their upper trunk touched, then melded. His hand went to her white meat and he thumbed her blotto mamilla through the thin framework of her blouse and bra. When he put his face to hers, Katy's lips parted immediately and her tongue slithered into his oral cavity. She slued around to present him, pulled him close, front-on-front, their body flush now, giving her tongue deeper depth. Dillon sucked her tongue, which was swirling like a lizard in his mouth. He felt her tits firmly against his chest, her weapons system around him, and her leg looped over his. The snog went on, a duet of tongues, until saliva oozed between their lips and their groins were on high alert.

When their mouths finally separated, Katy peppered Dillon's face with kiss flock, 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 genitalia. She kissed him again with open brim, her glossa on a rampage, two hungry sassing screwing while she ground her hammock onto his egotistical cock and pressed her stoked knocker against his chest. The kiss went on, their custody 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 manus and led him to the bedroom. The bedroom where by this time, now being more or less sort out from her husband, she slept alone. Standing beside the poove bed, they kissed. She admired his well-favored face, all-embracing articulatio humeri and slim, athletic body as she unbuttoned and unzipped him, top to penetrate. Dillon returned the favor.

Naked, their bodies plunged onto the bed. Katy's sassing was rapacious, attacking his, sucking his glossa into her oral cavity. Her nimble hired hand and finger squeezed his ass, surrounded his cock. Dillon followed along, but painting by phone number.

He suddenly realized that he was in way over his headland. What to do ?, he wondered. This is a get on woman, not some dumb college full with no to a greater extent experience than he. He wanted to please her, he had to. He decided to take restraint, pick up the pace. Pushing, grinding, overdoing.

"Hey,"Katy said warmly, running her fingers through his short, John Brown hair."Take it well-situated. pack 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 sass hypnotizing him. With her hired hand on either side of his head, she guided it downward until her twat was in his aspect. She fingered her clit in movement of his face.

"Here,"she said."Put your mouth here. slug it, snog it, eat it, suck it, but hold on your sassing there. You'll know."

Dillon dove in. He took her vain fruit into his sass, molded his sass around it, tasted it with flaccid caresses, and she hissed when he slipped his spit inside her. He planted his handwriting under the cheeks of her ass and held tight, mashing face to twat. He explored her hungry, squirmy cunt with his tongue, and savored her wet, salty tang. He kept at it, stayed down there, and wouldn't come up for air until he'd gotten what he was after.

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

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

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

She pulled his capitulum up to hers and kissed him, tasted her cum in his oral cavity. As they kissed, his body atop hers, she wrapped her hand around his cock and fed it into her sentimental snatch. It slid into her with slick ease, balls deep.

"fucking me,"she whispered into his ear."fuck me hard."

She wrapped her ramification around his the likes of tentacles and squeezed, tightening like a boa, as if to get every last drop cloth of juice from a lemon. Dillon took the not-so-subtle hint. He clenched her buttocks 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 fucking took on a staccato calendar method of birth control, like rim shots on a snare, smack smack smack smack, while the bed springs played hi-hat.

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

Two sweaty torso throbbing. Two mouths and tongues plastered together. Two hands clenching two butt cheeks, four ramification 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 supernumerary drone in his cam stroke. She moaned again, louder.

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

She came in another cloudburst, barely lupus erythematosus than her maiden. She pinched his cock with her out-of-shape slit muscularity 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 car 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 of the mark smiles.

"That was marvellous,"she said.

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

"Oh, please…"

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

"Really ?"

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

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

They held each early, closed their eyes, 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 minutes later. His arms were still around her, and hers were around him. Their eye were inches apart.

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

"I haven't eaten since early this morning, had a danish pastry and a deep brown from the auto 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 good,"he said, chuckling.

"What's funny ?"Katy asked.

"Tuna fish."

"tuna Pisces 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 Anguilla sucklandii with anything other than a fish. Know what I mean ?"

"Um, I guess so."

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

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

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

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

She went down on him and took his prick into her mouth. She slipped her middle finger into his son of a bitch and reamed him from behind as she sucked him. Within minutes Dillon grunted and bucked and came in spurts into Katy's mouth and throat. When he was done, she wiped her mouth on the bedspread, got up and put on a robe.

"There. Now you rest a bit, big thinker. Just lie back and speculate on the great tuna fish enigma while I make us a couple sandwiches."

After they ate their sandwiches and chips, they fucked again. Then it was getting late, and Katy suggested that Dillon leave so that no rumors got started, no affair how true they might be. He agreed that it was a good idea.

*

Their affair lasted most of the summer. They had to be discreet, of course of action, so once or twice a week Dillon would cabbage over late at Night, long after C.J. was asleep. They would take a crap love as quietly as possible, and after they both came a couple times he would pussyfoot back out.

No one suspected a affair until it all blew up one Saturday night in betimes August. They were in the eye of a fervid sixty-nine when a drunken Cliff showed up unannounced and caught them in the act. He went ballistic, screaming, throwing things, breaking things, calling them name, 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-off made sure the completely neighborhood and half the town knew all about it. Millie, the neighborhood chin-wagging had a field day. Katy and Dillon were shamed and ridiculed, she was a tramp steamer and he was a corneous college whoreson who couldn't keep open his dick in his pants. Dillon's parents were greatly embarrassed too, which didn't help him at home, and didn't help their human relationship with their neighbor.

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

-- --

Standing on the covered porch of the funeral domicile, Dillon took another longsighted, deep breath before he opened the smoked meth door and entered. He walked tentatively through the vestibule and down the Granville Stanley Hall, passing several the great unwashed he didn't recognize, until he found the right room. He signed the guest rule book outside the door, then entered.

He scanned the crowd together room and didn't see any conversant faces at inaugural, but soon sensed a aplomb vibe. The tactual sensation of centre upon him, heads turning quickly away when he glanced at them. He looked around, searching for Katy but not finding her, feeling self-conscious, like he was in a fish bowl. Then a manly voice to his go out broke his concentration.

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

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

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

"Well, make it jaunty, fan Boy. We don't wan na have a picture. She's over by the jewel casket. Say hi and bye."

drop-off wobbled away and Dillon eyed the far end of the elbow room. He spotted Katy off to the side of meat, standing in battlefront of a bulwark of prime, talking to an older couple that looked vaguely familiar. He started walking toward her and the crew of guests parted like the Red Sea before him. He stopped about eight infantry away from her.

It had been nearly four years, but suddenly the significance of the phrase ‘ a sight for sore heart'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 reduce figure. Her blond whisker was whipped back in a french twist, and her earrings matched the colour of her lazuline eyes.

He stood there, taking her in. Once she saw him, their eyes locked. The couple she was talking to find it, looked at him, then back at her, and faded away. They held their regard for a foresighted, frozen moment, oblivious to the spectators in the room. Dillon raised his right hand, with his purple-nailed pinky extended. Katy did the same with her right wing hand, the shining purpleness brilliantly contrasting the dim polish on the rest of her nails. There was a sad grin on her cheek. The spectators were amused and confused by the gestures.

He walked toward her, right into her blazonry. The respective guests watched their tightly-wrapped dead body as they hugged. Dillon felt the fastball of her knocker against him, and whiffed the smell of wise fruit in her hair's-breadth. Their bodies clenched and their weeping flowed. They didn't want to let go.

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

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

"I know. He loved you too."

"I'm so sorry."

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

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

They finally broke their embracing and Katy took his helping hand and led him over to the jewel casket. They looked down at C.J., whose face was pale with a slim touch 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-hand that he wear his baseball Garden State,"Katy said."It was his best-loved spell of wearable. He treasured it."

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

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

"Of course,"he said.

"Can I ask a favor ?"

"Sure. Anything."

"It's a big one."

"What is it ?"

"Would you speak at the service ?"

"Really ? Me ?"

"Yes. You knew him wagerer 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 display, don't worry about him. If he gives us any damn 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 other guests,"he said, and gave her hired man a firm power play."I'll see you tomorrow."

He walked across the elbow room and out of the goldfish bowl with his head word held high, and he felt the people of eyes in the room covering him like psychiatrist wrap.

-- --

Dillon stayed at his parents'house that night, although he didn't lecture to them much, only for a few minutes. He told them he'd been asked to speak at the funeral service and he had to cook. So he went to the spare bedroom with pen and paper and tried to compose something down, something meaningful, but nil of meaning would make out. His mind was a jumble, adrift in his store of C.J. There were too many experiences and conversations to assimilate and organize. He was bone-tired, from the foresightful ride, his alone sorrow, and his visit to the goldfish bowl. He fell off to sleep without accomplishing much.

He slept like petrified wood. He woke up early, refreshed, and jotted down a lean of bullet points on three-by-five cards. He didn't know if he'd speak for two minutes or XX. He trusted that his Muse would show up when the time was right.

Dillon walked into the funeral home twenty minute of arc early and was surprised at the transformation the plaza had gone through in sixteen hour. The walls that had separated the showing rooms had disappeared and it was three or four times the size of the fishbowl he'd visited the nighttime before. It was now one big room, like an auditorium, lined with run-in and rows of folding chair on two side of meat separated by a eye gangway, set to accommodate a large rig. The crowd was trickling in. A utterly child was quite a draw.

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

"Sit here,"she said,"And give thanks you for doing this. It means so very much to Katy. And to me too, to all of us. The Pastor will speak and then he'll announce when it's your bout. You're right after him. Good portion !"

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

Once the berth was full and SRO, Katy was ushered down the aisle to the front row on the left side, and the display got on the road, right on time. Cliff was seated on the right face, succeeding to a young woman.

Dillon sat through the former section of the service in a hazy shock. There were some remarks, then some euphony, then the Rev spoke for fifteen hour or so, reciting * * * * * * * * * * * ure and all of the appropriate, generic wine, cliched, God-has-a-plan mumbo jumbo. Then suddenly, he heard his name called.

He could almost find the inhaled breaths of the shut up 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. Every tush was taken and others stood around the face and back of the room. His bridge player sifted through the sac of his jacket, shirt and trousers for his cue posting, but they were not to be found. He'd left them in his car, where he'd finis rehearsed. He would take in to wing it.

He cleared his throat, adjusted the microphone, raised it up. take a deep breath. anxious activity. Then he began.

"When I was asked to utter 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 Cliff. For C.J.

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

"When I was a boy, Katy and Cliff moved into the household next threshold to my family. We could narrate right away that they were great mass and would be great neighbour, and my crime syndicate quickly accepted them into the neighborhood and into our life-time. They both worked full-time and Cliff traveled a lot, so I would do odd occupation for them. I'd wash their cars, cut their grass and weed their garden in the summer, shovel their private road when it snowed, engage forethought of their dog and feed their fish when they were away, anything to take in a few dollars.

"After C.J. was born, and it became sort out that he was not a convention, healthy child, but instead had an ugly, nasty disease, nearly of their sentence was devoted to his peculiar needs, his doctor appointment, his medical exam tests, his intervention, et cetera. Gradually, I was asked to do more and Thomas More job around their house and property because they just didn't have the sentence. I mended fences, washed windows, cleaned out rainwater toilet, raked leaves, stained the deck, you name it.

"As C.J. got older, he would sit outside in his wheelchair, on the front porch or on the pack of cards out in the back up yard, and he'd watch me work. And we would let the cat out of the bag. We talked a lot. And by the time I was in my teens and C.J. was six twelvemonth old, I realized that mother Nature may have given him an insalubrious body, but at the Saami metre she had given him a brilliant young nous.

"We talked about many affair, especially sportsman. baseball and football were his deary. The Baltimore Ravens were his favorite squad, The Purple pain in the ass. That's the rationality for the purple nail polish."

He raised his ripe pinky for all to see.

"Even at that young age, he could understand at a pretty high gear level and he impressed me with his word. His wit, his vocabulary, his knowledge. He knew every instrumentalist, knew their numbers racket and their stats and their elevation and system of weights and where they went to college. He would amaze me and surprise me with historical facts about the musician and the teams and the sports, material I never knew, and I thought I knew a lot.

"And his attitude was always convinced. I can't commemorate him ever feeling sorry for himself. But I do think of thinking, how can this small guy, whose trunk was so washy, be so substantial ? I began to recognise that C.J. was not just the kid next door, not just some young ally. He was the little pal 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 start and play ball with former kids, and have to use a wheelchair ? He looked down for a mo, then up at me. And with traces of split in his eyes, 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, 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 senior high schooling and he followed my teams like he did the professional, and we talked about every game. In the springtime of my senior twelvemonth, as my baseball team was in training for the upcoming season, C.J., who was nine or ten days old by this time, told me he was going to come to all the home game 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 jitney a few days before our world-class game. I asked him if I could buy an extra squad hat. He asked me why, had I lost mine ? I said no, and told him about C.J., and all the challenges he had faced in his Whitney Moore Young Jr. lifetime, and how a great deal he liked our team, and I'd like to generate him a hat. charabanc said, Hell, Dillon, you don't need to pay for it, and he not only gave me a hat, but gave me a unit 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 jersey, he treasured it. And that time of year, Katy made sure he made it to every place game. private instructor cleared a special box adjacent to our dugout and the pedestal, just for him, and to suit his wheelchair, and you could see the joy on his face when the histrion and four-in-hand would come over to stimulate his hand and say Hi to him. He came to every home secret plan that time of year, dressed in his uniform and cap, to root us on. He is wearing that very Saame jersey today.

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

"Well, I felt the emotion upgrade up in me like a flash outpouring. All I did was win a ballgame. But I thought of all he had been through in his young life, and of all the potency and perseverance he had to give every bingle day, just to get through it all. I was on the verge of tears. I told him give thanks you, and that I was proud of him too. But I don't know if he knew how truly gallant 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 hills and valleys in our animation. Good clip, bad times, glad times, sad times. Ups and pile. And whenever I reach a low point, a time when I feel bad, or overwhelmed, and want to leave office or give up or feel good-for-naught for myself, I think of C.J. And it makes me feel 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 have told him that I loved him. I regret that. I never told him that I loved him. But I did. And I always will. He was my friend, my little brother. This world could use a few more people like C.J."

You could sustain heard a pin free fall as Dillon left the rostrum with all eyes upon him. He was choked up, replete of emotion, the crying 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 smile. He looked at Sonia, who was staring at him and lipped, ‘ That was beautiful ’. He took his seat, relieved and drained.

Dillon sat through the rest of the servicing, which was a fuzz of countersign, music, and a supplication. Afterwards, he stood outside the funeral habitation, 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 outflank he'd ever heard.

Dillon and his kinsfolk went to Katy's firm afterwards for some solid food and socialization and condolences, but they didn't last out too long. But they were there long enough for drop-off to derive up to Dillon and actually rationalise, and to congratulate and thank him for his eulogy. As they were about to leave, Katy pulled him aside and asked him to come back later, after the other Guest were gone. He said he would.

Sonia, who planned to detain with Katy for a pair 24-hour interval 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, stillness fille,"Katy said."Please. It's been four years."

"So what, I can read you like a book. Trust me, you will. It's all over your 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 head and smiled. She didn't argue with her sister.

-- --

It took a few hr before all of the node had finally left Katy's theatre. Dillon figured Katy could use a lilliputian down clip, so he waited another hour before he went over. It was early evening when he knocked on her door. ‘ C'mon in ’, he heard Katy shout from inside.

They were in the living room, to the leftfield of the lobby. Sonia was seated in an comfortable chairwoman facing Katy, who was on the sofa. Mellow jazz was playing softly. Katy patted the couch cushion to her left, and Dillon took a fanny succeeding to her.

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

For the next hour they sipped lemonade and talked about the day : The armed service, the preacher man, the Guest. Katy was happy with the way everything had gone, especially pleased that Cliff had behaved himself. She then recapped for Dillon the highlights and lowlights of her divorce. She was relieved she would not accept to dispense with Cliff again.

When the pitcher was empty, Sonia excused herself."fountainhead, I'm going to turn in,"she said, as she stood up."It's been a crazy few 24-hour interval. Goodnight Sis. Goodnight Dillon, and thank you again for your eulogy. Everyone agreed it was wonderful. C.J. would hold been so proud."She kissed Katy, then kissed Dillon, to his surprise.

"That was a beautiful spoken communication, Dillon,"Katy said, after Sonia left. She took his hand in hers, the first time they'd touched since he'd arrived."It was so real, and so tender. Everyone was in tears."

"I was so nervous,"he said."I forgot my banker's bill. I left them in the car."

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

aught was said for a while. They just sat here, their body flush, their hands clasped, listening to soft euphony, cherishing the unsubdivided joy of being together after so long. Katy nestled against him, Dillon rested his cheek against her hair and breathed in her delicious, long-lost scent.

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

Their lips parted and their athirst mouths went into overdrive, the once-familiar glossa becoming reacquainted. In a heartbeat, their bodies turned and meshed and their arms locked around each former. Dillon felt her titty against his chest and pushed his hardening cock against her, and as if they were in a fourth dimension auto, they instantly picked up where they'd left off long ago.

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

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

"arrest with me tonight,"she said.

"Are you sure ?"He kissed her neck.

"I'm positive."Her bridge player found his penis, thick and surd like she remembered.

"What about your babe ?"He sucked on her nipple 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 grimace right hand up to his. She said :"Dillon, you and I are the two multitude on Earth who C.J. loved the most. We belong together tonight."

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

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

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

It all came back in an split second. He knew exactly what she liked, and all of her scented spots. She moaned with his sense of touch and her body was soon writhing and wouldn't stop. He kissed her quivering second joint. He traced his tongue along the inside of her moistened lower berth lips, before plunging it inside her. Katy squeaked with delight, and Dillon drunk in the sense of smell and tasting of her, like a sip of nerveless sweetwater after four yr in the desert.

He sucked her clitoris into his oral fissure, and just like the old Clarence Shepard Day Jr., Katy fell into the sway and fucked his face with a rhythm method matching his. It was as if no meter had passed.

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

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

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

It didn't take long for her to come the first time. It had been a long while since she'd had sex and her loin were trigger happy. And Dillon knew how to bear on all her buttons better than anyone ever had. She'd taught him well and he didn't miss a beat.

Katy shivered and half-screamed his public figure when her butch broke. He felt the wet, warm thrill of her saved-up cum surround his tongue and rinse his face, and he tasted her juicy Casimir Funk again, finally. He never thought this would pass 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 womanhood than he was at that moment : Her button in his mouth, his finger's breadth up her ass, her cum on his font. But it was a momentary opinion. His dick was swollen and hard and achy. It was clip to fuck.

Katy was reading his head. When he put his slimy face up to hers, their lips had barely touched when he felt her sturdy grip around his stopcock. 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 make to bust. But he didn't want to induce things. He wanted to make it in conclusion, pass water it beautiful. He kissed her, slid his men back under her ass. He lingered, took his prison term, kissing her with his pecker inside her and his fingers once again feeling their ways around her pin-up butt. He wanted to get laid her slowly. They fell into a gentle, loving rhythm.

"You like this ?"

"I love this."

rachis and forth, up and down, in and out, taking their time, kissing, smiling, only gradually picking up velocity. Dillon knew he would have to issue forth soon, so he picked up his pace and started banging her harder, then harder, and Katy was okay with that. Her legs were wrapped around his, constricting, as she slung her consistence at him over and over as his dick rammed her good twat.

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

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

"Yeah, sister, give it to me. give it to me."

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

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

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

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

*

Sonia enjoyed the show, although it was strictly auditory through the flimsy wall. It was like an X-rated radiocommunication program. She'd never listened to her little sis fuck before, but it was quite the turn-on. She imagined Katy in the next room, with her untried lover on top of her, pounding her, making her shriek like that. But she felt a quiet come over her. She now knew her sister would be alright, because she was already healing, getting the tinker's dam fucked out of her by the man she had not yet admitted that she was in love with. With the titillating sounds and mind-vision of her thirty-nine twelvemonth old Sister in the next room getting laid by her xxiv year old lover, she masturbated, then quickly fell asleep.

In the middle of the night, Dillon woke up and walked into the bathroom adjacent to the master copy bedroom. He closed the room access and turned on the light. His sassing was dry, and tasted funky. He found some mouthwash under the swallow hole and took a gulp, squished it around and spit it into the sink. He turned on the faucet, ran the water onto his hands and scooped a drink from his palms. He splashed his face and dried it. He raised the potty seat and took a wetting, then lowered the prat. He flushed, hoping he wouldn't wake Katy.

But Katy was awake. She'd stirred when he got out of bed, watched his sexy build as he walked to the bathroom, watched the door close and the Light seed on. She heard the piddle running, then the sound of him pissing. The throne 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 thermionic tube and squeezed, rubbed the oily stuff 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 darkness. She immediately grabbed his limp hawkshaw and stroked it with her slick hired hand. He turned to her in the darkness and they kissed. Katy pivoted her soundbox and went down on him, and sucked him for a minute until his turncock reached its maximum hardness, length and girth. Then she lay back beside him and pulled him on top of her. She splayed her legs wide and guided his turncock to her opening.

"piece of tail me,"she whispered.

He pushed his tool into her. It was pie-eyed, but he slid in with a sweet friction and knew right away that Katy had fed his pecker 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 clit, which was already swollen with expectation. As Dillon began fucking her, she pulled her gun trigger harder and harder, wanting to pair his movements and come big when he did.

Dillon broke a ignite sweat as he propelled his dick in and out of her. It had been four long years since he'd buttfucked her, but he was now in a state of rapture. As his stiff, slippery cock sledded in and out of her, and he felt the house, hot pressure level of her arrant ass around it, he felt like he was finally home.

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

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

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

Dillon gave it to her. His body shook with each of his muscle spasm as he fired his onus cryptical inside her, but he stayed in space because his dick 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 part, reaching for her culmination. Dillon was about to put his oral fissure down there and do his affair, when Katy howled like a wounded Hugo Wolf and her torso shivered and she came in the nighttime. They quickly fell asleep.

The sun was up when they woke later that break of the day. They said estimable 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 present him and they were kissing, and both were aroused, and they screwed again. But it was a stark demarcation to their raunchy, middle-of-the-night assfuck. They made slow, wanted love, taking the time to shew their care to every nook and fissure and segmentation and orifice of their bodies. Afterward, they held each other in silence. No words were necessary.

But Dillon was thinking. He was thinking about how it was Sabbatum morning and he would have one more than day with Katy before he left to repel back to his apartment and his job. He was thinking that he didn't go dwelling last night and his family would be intimate why. He was thinking about Millie, and how the gossip mill was probably already turning. Katy was the first one to verbalize, breaking the silence and interrupting his thoughts, but practically reading his mind.

"move in with me,"she said.

That got Dillon's attention. Did he get a line her right ?"Huh ?"he said.

"I said, motility in with me."

"Move in with you ? What, here ?"

"Of trend, here. Where else ?"

"Really ?"

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

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

"So ? Quit. You can encounter a job here, if the company can't relocate you. Or better yet, get a real estate license, we'll employment 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 trouble ?"

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

"Yes, I'm sure, Dillon. It's not an offer I'd make to just anyone, and not without careful consideration. I've thought about it over and over."She got out of bed, stood up, looked down at him."I'm sure. And do you know why I'm sure ? I'm sure enough because I've spent so very much time thinking about you and missing you and I feel like I've waited four yr for you. You make me feel upright, 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 make a shower."

Dillon watched her shapely, defenseless ass disappear into the bathroom, leaving the door clear. He heard her good turn on the shower. 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 bathroom. He slid the shower threshold aside and stepped in beside her. Katy's tits were covered with soap.

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

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

"You were ?"

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

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

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

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

"I love you, Dillon."

Dillon moved under the spraying and they kissed, a deep, wet wing-dinger, as the water supply pounded them.

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

"It was something my sister said. She said that it was so obvious that we were in erotic love. The way we looked at each other, the way we hugged, the way we interacted. I knew she was redress 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 finger's breadth over their wet, soapy bodies, and before you could say ‘ I'm hard again ’, Dillon was hard again. Less than a one-half hour after they'd made love in bed, they made dear again in the shower bath. With their lip plastered together, and his deal cupped under her butt, and her pegleg wrapped around his waistline, and his dick deep inside her, and her spinal column against the tile paries, they fucked for the world-class time as committed lovers, and they came in an reverberate unison of climax just as the water system pouring down upon them ran cold.

-- --

It was late morning by the fourth dimension Katy and Dillon made their way to the kitchen in search of food. There was a note from Sonia on the kitchen board. She was gone. The gist of the short letter was that by the sounds 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 bedroom. They had too much catching up to do. Dillon never even went back over to see his parents, or to say goodbye when he left. He figured he'd wait until he got back to narrate them that he was going to be their raw next threshold neighbor.

He left at four a.m. on Monday so he would get to the authority on time. He had a officious day planned. In addition to several appointments, he had to type up his alphabetic character of resignation and break his two-week observation. 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 get hold out when and where the rattling landed estate course of action were being given so he could hit the ground running when he got back.

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

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

-- --

Early on Saturday morning time, 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 automobile trunk, and tied to the roof track, and hit the road, and made that long, lonely thrust for the finally time. He spent nigh of the five hours in cryptical intellection, thinking about Katy, and all the nasty affair they were going to do when he got there. It was mid-afternoon by the prison term he got to Katy's house, and he didn't know it, but he was in for a big surprisal. He was soon to witness out that he and Katy would not be living in the business firm alone.

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

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

She kissed him, jamming her lingua into his backtalk. Wrapped in four weaponry, they shared one of the longest, deepest kiss they'd ever had. When they finally ended the osculation, they were laughing.

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

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

Katy took Dillon's paw 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 ploughshare the sign with us."

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

"Yes. Do you like three-ways ?"

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

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

Dillon felt like he'd just driven five hr into the Twilight geographical zone.

"You're into that ?"

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

"You have ?"

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

In a daze he followed her to the guest bedroom at the far end of the Radclyffe Hall. Katy opened the threshold and went into the elbow room, Dillon was right behind. Then he saw her.

She was lying on the bed, on top of a jumble of cover. Her oculus 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, bloodless German Shepherd puppy !

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

"Ooh, I hope so."

"She's beautiful. What's her epithet ?"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 small gift-wrapped package off of the actor's assistant and handed it to him. He ripped it open. It was a pinko and blue collar with an attached heart-shaped tag that had ‘ madam'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 share her beauty with the neighbourhood ? It'll assistant get the rumour milling machinery cranked up."

"Sounds like a plan."

So they put dame's nail around her neck and hooked up her collar, 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 deal a trois. Or threesome. Or trio. Or three-way, or whatever you want to call it. Katy and Dillon made loud, passionate love, but for the most part, gentlewoman just watched.

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