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Lemonade

By: Stephan



We were watching tv in my Aunt Jayne's living room that unusually hot evening in June, 1958. My aunt, her next door neighbor Sally and I were wearing only our nylons and heels and a light sheen of sweat on our otherwise nude bodies. The large pitcher of lemonade and ice cubes in the middle of the coffee table was forming a ring of condensation on the table top as it warmed in the hot air

We were watching 'Father Knows Best' and Sally said, "Do you think Margaret's getting any from her son Bud?"

"I would be, he's a cute kid!" my aunt said. "I wonder how big his cock is."

"Not as big as Stephan's I bet," Sally said, looking at me.

My sweaty cock started to rise as I looked at Sally's full tit's in the black half-cup bra and her long legs in sheer tan nylons.

"And I bet he'd like to hump Jane Wyatt. Wouldn't you, Stephan?"

I looked at the tv and Jane Wyatt on the screen in a scene with Billy Gray, who played her son, and tried to imagine her dressed like us, and my pecker rose to a full erection. "I see our young fucker would like to pump Jane's love hole, huh Stephan?" Aunt Jayne asked me.

"I sure would! She has nice tits," I answered, stroking my hard-on.

"Don't do that. That's our job," Sally laughed. "How many times did you cum today?"

"Four times," I answered proudly. "First in bed this morning in Aunt Jayne's pussy and then in your pussy after breakfast. Then Aunt Jayne's sucked me off in the back yard this afternoon and then I jacked off for both of you in the back yard."

I remembered how I woke up next to my aunt in her large bed in the hot bedroom. She kissed me then rolled onto her stomach, spread her legs, reached behind her, pulled her ass cheeks wide and let me kiss and lick her wet fuck-hole and fragrant dirt-hole. Then she slipped her large pillow under her stomach, raising her hips and delicious ass and I fucked her in her tight cock clamp. It didn't take long to milk my ball's of the days first cum and we were both covered in sweat and my face, ball's and cock were smeared with cum and pussy juice. We laughed, groped and played in the shower as we washed each other of sweat and cum and it was eight o- clock when we dressed in our "house" clothes of nylons and heels and went downstairs to the kitchen to make breakfast. "You have quite a memory," Sally laughed.

"A young swinger should always remember the pussy and ass he's enjoyed," Aunt Jayne said.

"And from the look of that pussy-plug you're ready for a another milking, Stephan."

"Let him rest, Sally. He's only a young boy," my aunt said, watching Bud on the small black and white screen.

"He's training to be a swinger, Jayne. And you had your first hump of the day before you two even got out of bed." Sally continued looking at me, her hand down between her sweaty thighs.

"He is my nephew after all. I discovered him and should get his first load of the day."

"You discovered him? His parents sent him to stay with you for the summer. You discovered him, as you put it, when you pulled up your skirt and gave him a look at your hairy, smelly cunt. You knew a young boy would get a hard-on."

"He likes my hairy, smelly cunt, don't you dear?" my aunt asked me with a smile.

"I sure do," I answered. I wanted to look at her aromatic pussy now but her lovely legs were crossed and I had to settle for her full, tasty tit's. My sweaty ball's were resting on the chair below my stiff cock which was now as hard as when I woke up this morning! A drop of pre-cum squeezed out of my dick-hole as I again looked at Sally's tit's in her half-cup bra, Jane Wyatt's hidden tit's and Aunt Jayne's bare tit's. I loved a woman's tit's! And still do, although I like pussy and ass better.

"And it had to happen sometime," my aunt continued, "so why shouldn't I get to pop his cherry instead of some hairless little cunt in the woods behind their school."

"I see your point. His cock gets me wet just looking at it". Sally sat up straight in her chair, reached behind and unhooked her bra. "I like the support, but it's too hot."

I was disappointed. Sally looked sexier in the bra, pushing up her tit's and offering two large pink nipples for sucking.

I watched Jane Wyatt as I thought about fucking her with my hard pecker and my pecker stayed nice and hard! I picked the pre-cum off my dick-head and sucked it into my mouth. Clear, thick and salty. I wondered if Jane would like my pre-cum?

When the commercial came on, (a singing Speedy Alka Seltzer), Sally said she had to pee.

"We don't want to miss that, do we Stephan?" Aunt Jayne asked.

As I followed the two women up the stairs to the second floor and the bathroom, I watched the two lovely ass's sway back and forth on their high heels and my fully erect cock was getting harder if possible. I knew the women knew it and the ass show was for me. I also knew my hard cock would be put to work before we went back down to the living room and I hoped it would be soon as another drop of pre-cum squeezed from my dick-hole and fell on the carpeted stair.

It was hot on the second floor, hotter then downstairs and we all started sweating even more. The bathroom was soon filled with the delicious aroma of sweat, pussy and shit hole's as Sally sat on the toilet. She spread her legs, put her hands on her stockinged thighs and smiled at us.

Aunt Jayne took the water glass off the sink and handed it to me. I went down on my knees in front of Sally, held the glass between her legs and soon a golden stream of warm piss filled the large glass. The metallic aroma of female piss soon mixed with the other aromatic smells of the bathroom!

"You first, Stephan," Aunt Jayne told me.

I drank a third of the glass and handed it to my aunt who did the same, letting some run down her chin and dribble down her tit's. I liked the taste of Sally's piss. I liked it better then Aunt Jayne's, although I would never tell them that! I tried to stay neutral in the on going, sometimes debated "Piss Question".

Then Sally drained the glass, smacking and licking her lips in mock appreciation of her own "wine".

When I was introduced to piss drinking by my aunt I thought it would make me sick, and it can! But not if it's fresh from its lovely source!

The smell of sweat, pussy, shit and piss filled the hot room and now I had to piss! When I told Aunt Jayne she laughed.

"Well that lovely boner you have isn't going to piss into the john. You know what to do, dear."

I slid out of my heels and stood in one end of the bathtub and the two women crowded in and got on their knees in front of me. Sally raised her arms to the ceiling, pulling up her full, lovely tit's and, laughing, gave the "benediction".

"Oh God of The Golden Shower, bring forth your sweet bounty of warm, golden pee for your humble, loyal and needful servants..."

"Oh, brother," Aunt Jayne said with a mock sigh of impatience.

"Shut up, you slut, I'm not done bringing forth the golden pee."

"Hurry up before I have to pee."

I was trying to piss as I strained and pushed and Sally continued.

"Thy needful servants pray to be shown your generosity. Thy needful servants pray to be pissed on!"

Right on cue, as the women laughed, my bladder let go and a stream of piss squirted from my stiff dick, arched upward like a fountain in the warm air and rained down on the two women. My aunt tried to catch it in her mouth as Sally rubbed it over her face, shoulders, arms and tit's. Aunt Jayne washed her face with the golden drops and I tried to keep the stream going as long as I could as I held my cock and directed the stream like an upraised hose. I got my last squirt into Sally's face, most of it into her open mouth. My cock was still hard and my ball's tingling as the last drop of piss rolled off my dick-head.

Aunt Jayne had a wonderful collection of pornography and one entire book was pictures of people pissing on each other. One picture showed a woman with large tit's and long, curly hair laying in a bathtub. She was wearing a short black corset and red stockings and looking up at the two men who were pissing on her. But what caught my attention, after the lovely sight of her wide open pussy, was that the men were holding up their limp cocks as they pissed! Limp Cocks? How could you piss on a lovely woman and not have a hard-on? Sure it was easy to aim that way but I was never able to piss on Aunt Jayne or Sally without a really stiff cock! Was there something wrong with these guys? Aunt Jayne told me that a woman who liked to be peed on didn't care if a cock was stiff or limp and maybe they were limp because she made them that way before they peed on her. Remember, dear, a woman has three holes!

"I want Stephan's pecker," my aunt said.

"I want your mouth," Sally said.

So we arranged ourselves with Sally on her back, Aunt Jayne with her head in Sally's crotch and her ass in the air facing me. I took her by the hips and pushed my dick-head up to her cunt lips, letting her pussy juice wet my knob just as she had taught me and then slowly pushed into her. She wasn't as tight as normal which surprised me. Maybe because her cunt was wetter then usual. Sally sometimes called Aunt Jayne a "tight cunt" but how would she know? I was becoming the expert on my aunt's fuck-hole and how she felt around my cock and how she liked to be "serviced". The night I first saw her slit and she showed me where a hard-on should go I was to much in heaven to remember how tight she was, only how wonderful it felt to be deep inside her with her legs around me, her tit's squished against my chest and her lips all over my face. But I was learning, and she was tighter in bed this morning then she was now.

I slowly slid my cock back and forth in her as she ate out her neighbor's cunt. Sally started moaning and I started increasing my strokes. A slurping sound was coming from Sally's hairy crotch and I increased my humping even more, the heat of my aunt's fuck-hole causing a tingling in my cock root. My ball's were wet with cunt juice and the sucking sound of my cock as it slid back and forth in Aunt Jayne only increased the wonderful sensation along the length of my pussy-plug and cock root. I increased the pace of my humping and began to fuck my aunt faster and faster, the way she had taught me she liked it! As much as I always wanted a good fucking of my aunt to never end I never had a chance! My ball's let go and I squirted a stream of thick, youthful man-juice into my aunts womb!

I shot my last drop, my ball's were empty for now, but I didn't stop my humping as Aunt Jayne and Sally had taught me the first thing a man has to learn about women is that you don't stop fucking a female until she cum's. Not if you want more fucking, that is!

I increased my strokes as Aunt Jayne's ass banged into my stomach over and over and then her sweat covered body stiffened and shuddered at the same time and I knew from wonderful experience with my aunt that she had hit her orgasm. But I didn't stop even thought my back was starting to hurt because a woman has to come down slowly. So I slowly wound down my humping until I could pull my cock out of her. It was dripping with cunt juice. I formed a ring with my hand at the base of my cock and moved it up the length of my still erect pecker, catching her sweet wetness and then licked my hand clean. I loved the way my aunt tasted in her most feminine place and she knew it. She pulled her head from Sally's wet crotch and smiled at me over her shoulder. "Clean me, dear," she told me, her voice husky.

I slid onto my knees behind her smelly, still raised ass, my nylons tight on my sweat soaked legs and buried my face in her musty and very aromatic fuck-hole! My nose was pushed against her shit-hole and as I sucked in air I also sucked in the wonderful aroma of her dirt-hole as I licked her fuck-hole, trying to lick and suck all the sweet pussy juice from her. I was so engrossed in my cleaning job I almost missed Sally's excited voice saying, "I've cum, I've cum!

"Now I have to go!" Aunt Jayne announced. She got on her back on the bottom of the piss stained tub and soon a stream of warm, gold pee streamed out of her pussy and arched into the air and fell on Sally and I like rain! I rubbed the piss over my still hard cock as Sally tried to catch the warm piss in her mouth.

We washed each other in the warm water from the shower head, groping, grabbing and sucking until the water ran cold. We left our soaked stockings on the bottom of the tub and went to the master bedroom where my aunt turned on a small table lamp next to the large bed. Also on the table was an alarm clock in the form of an American Indian with a full headdress and a huge hard-on, and the round clock face was in the middle of his huge balls. Aunt Jayne once told me she sometimes used that huge ceramic dick to fill her hot cunt and bring herself to a wonderful cum when something warmer wasn't available! Maybe someday my dick would be that big!

But that night my dick was large enough as we three climbed onto the bed and Aunt Jayne took my soft cock in her hand and began to stroke it. But Sally pushed Aunt Jayne onto her back and started to eat her damp fuck-hole.

I was on my knees beside the two sexy women and my cock was growing longer as I watched my aunt and her neighbor enjoying themselves on the damp sheets. The tingling in my ball's told me I was soon going to be ready to join the fun as my pecker grew longer!

Then suddenly I felt a pressure in my gut and knew I had to shit! But the wonderful scene on the damp sheets of my aunt's bed was to wonderful to leave as my aunt started moaning with pleasure. Sally was moving her tongue up and down Aunt Jayne's pussy lips as if she were licking an ice cream cone.

I wanted to watch, to cum! But my gut wouldn't let me and I started to ease off the bed.

"What are you doing, Stephan?," Aunt Jayne asked between breathless moans.

When I told her my problem Sally raised her head from between Aunt Jayne's legs and said, "We can't miss that!"

Aunt Jayne sat on the open toilet and Sally sat on the edge of the bathtub and I stood in the middle of the bathroom floor. My half erect pecker was pointing at the two women like a pistol when my aunt told me to assume "The Position". The pressure in my gut was growing, along with my cock! I turned around, spread my legs and bent over, grabbing my ankles.

"Nice, brown, and puckered. Beautiful," my aunt said.

"I like the way his ball's hang down," Sally said.

"And with a hard-on too," Aunt Jayne commented. "Move the rug, dear."

With my bare foot I kicked the rug from under my ass. The first time I had assumed "The Position" Aunt Jayne made me wash the rug in the bathtub! I knew what Aunt Jayne wanted and began to push!

The two women were laughing and making dirty jokes and remarks about me and, still bent over, I grabbed my ass cheeks and pulled them open to give them even a better view of my puckered dirt-hole. I pushed harder and soon I felt the shit begin to open my dirt-hole and Sally said to wait! Then she was under me between my legs, her sweat covered face looking up at my hole and ball's, her hair spread around her head on the tile floor.

"Come on, Stephan honey, right in my face."

"Shit on the smelly slut's face, dear," Aunt Jayne laughed.

Aunt Jayne told me before that her friend Sally liked shit better then piss, especially young shit.

I was rubbing my stiff pussy-plug with one hand and cupping and squeezing my ball's with the other as I strained to dump my shit into Sally's face as Aunt Jayne called out ribald encouragement! I felt my gut loosen and a rope of brown, fragrant shit slid from my shit-hole and Sally moved her head to catch it in the middle of her face!

Aunt Jayne's collection of pornography included copies of a magazine called "SCAT" that was devoted to shit and the people who liked it. It was full of black and white and color pictures of people and what they did with shit. Some even showing men and women, and kids, eating it! It turned our stomachs and my aunt told me if I ever joined a swingers club where they did that kind of thing to find another club! Shit was part of the swingers world and could be fun but you didn't eat it! Sally felt the same way as we all felt in my aunt's club. And now she showed how it could be fun as she wiped my brown dirt from her face and spread it between her spread legs and over her stomach, leaving a target with her fuck-hole as the bulls eye. And I was the bull! My cock was as stiff and hard as when I watched Sally in the living room and my ball's were full again!

"That's an invitation, Stephan!" my aunt goaded me. "Fuck her!"

It took only a second to get my cock between Sally's legs and as she reached for me I pushed my pecker all the way into her hot cunt! She wrapped her legs around me and the shit squeezed out between our bodies. I couldn't kiss her shit covered face so I sucked a hard nipple on a full tit and we moved in rhythm with each other as we started a good fuck. We were moving together and I felt hot hands on my ass as Aunt Jayne squeezed and gently pinched my ass cheeks. Then she cupped and fondled my ball's. I liked it and it caused me to move my hips faster as I tried to get my cock deeper into Sally's hot fuck-hole. The tension in my ball's grew until I squirted a load of jism into that tight hole!

Sally hadn't cum yet and it was a man's duty to make a woman cum, my aunt always said, so I kept humping the tight cunt! Then she came and arched her back as she hit and we both relaxed. The smell of shit filled the bathroom and the warm, gooey dirt lubricated our bodies as we continued sliding against each other!

"I think Stephan should rest for a while before our next lesson," Aunt Jayne said, sitting on the floor, watching us come down from our fuck.

"Oh, he'll be ready again real soon," Sally said with a smile, squeezing me with her legs.

So we took another shower until the warm water turned cold. Then we went to the bedroom and I helped the women dress in fresh nylons as they playfully fought over who would pull up my stockings. They each did one leg and by then my cock was pointing to the ceiling again. Sally was starting to jack my stiff pecker but Aunt Jayne said it was time for something cool to drink. So we all went back down to the living room. Aunt Jayne went to the kitchen to get the other pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and we watched the end of the The Nelson's. Next on was the show that really kept my cock up! As Aunt Jayne and her neighbor Sally made dirty remarks about the show's characters and my pecker grew even stiffer, we watched the opening credit's of 'The Donna Reed Show'.

It was not an unusual but certainly one of the most memorable evenings I spent with my aunt that summer.

Lemonade



I stepped out to the backyard to find my daughter sunbathing on top of a beachtowel. She must have been waiting for me because her curtain of bright blonde hair flailed and her baby-doll face spun immediately, showing bright teeth and blue eyes. Her skin had a smooth bronze tint in the sunlight. Her lips were the same color pink as her bikini. 

I was expecting a 'Hi Daddy' but it didn't come. Instead, she rolled on her back. Her nipples poked obviously through her top, and the wide expanse of cleavage between them was dewy with sweat. Her flat tummy was sucked in slightly and her pierecd bellybutton looked so cute, like trying to hide. The smallest triangle of fabric covered the mound from where shiny, smooth dancer's legs stretched. Spaghetti-thin strings circled the gentle curves of her waist, tied twice in long, decorative knots hanging loosely from each one of her lovely little hips.

I sqauatted beside her head and let my knees sink into the cool grass. I brushed a matted strand of silky hair from her forehead and brought the cold lemonade cup to her lips. She sipped, and I held the back of her head. I cupped it, scooping a handful of sun-warmed hair like you would while getting a blow job. I let her go and put the glass down. Her head dropped back and her eyelashes joined together. 

I lowered my mouth to her ear and moved more hair away with a finger, exhaling. "If I buy you that BMW," I paused to gain breath, "convertible... Can I have something?"

"A tug-job," she whispered. "In the bathroom."

I hissed with a tinge of frustration. "C'mon. Something more. A BMW." I hated how I sounded.

"I'm your daughter."

"I know, still..." I couldn't curb the desperation in my voice. "I gotta be able to..."

"I'll suck you off before you got to bed tonight." She cut me off. "I only had sex with two boyfriends, twelve times total. I'm no slut."

I propped myself on my elbows. This was obviously not seguing as easily as I hoped. 

She continued, "I'm not having anal sex until I'm in college."

"I think you'd be amazed how easy it would slide in. Just the sweat in your crack right now would pop it in like nothing."

"Stop it. Daddy. Listen to yourself. I've never even kissed you. What if I can't handle all this shit? You watch too much porn."

She was right. I'd been fantasizing way too deliberately about her for way too long. I probably should have started coming onto her more gradually, more naturally. A year or two ago as she was starting to discover boys. She grew up too damn fast.

The voices from the neighboring yard got both our attention at the same time. We looked to the left, over the faded wooden fence. The sounds of fuck-flirting. Some unintelligible naughties, along with giggles and sporadic moaning. Two heads and naked shouders chased each other above the fenceline, a receding man and a lush, brown-haired filly. My daughter kept her gaze fixed until the two heads stopped at the fence, looking at us. Two seconds later, it was obvious by both their expressions that Jim Jonnen was already drilling his daughter for oil. And it sure seemed like they got a headstart much, much earlier today.

"How is it?" Sarah shouted toward the fence, too close to my ear.

"It's great..." Jim's daughter blurted from the other side, and immediately yelped. Jim must have put some extra mustard on that last poke. God he was enjoying himself...

The Jonnens dropped below the fence, and eventually their voices departed. Sarah and I were alone again.

"You really wanna fuck me, don't you?" Her voice had a slightly lighter tone.

"So bad," I flicked the elastic of my swintrunks against my abs. There was just not enough room for my hard-on and balls in that inner lining. I needed to spring it out soon. But despite the pain, I couldn't get myself to be upset with Sarah. She was just so damn pretty, and so obviously seventeen. 

"Let's wait till it's dark and do it in my room. It should feel at least semi like the sex I would normally have at this age."

I didn't answer.

"I'll let you come on my head."

"You do mean your face, right?"

It was her turn to stay silent. Her eyes were closed again.

I peeled my swimming trunks, soundlessly, below my balls. It took a moment, but her forehead twitched like she'd detected a new scent.

"Not now-" she started to say as the first cumwad made a tiny slap noise and soaked her cheekbone. I rattled my foreskin and a loaded geyser spasmed inside me from taint to tip. I pointed at the last fraction of a second and hosed her from chin to temple. She was finally able to react with a sharp exhale and an arched neck. But I'd already got her gooey with a mere two squirts. Judging by the rock-stiffness in my hand and the agony in my balls, even I had no idea how many more I had coming.

I shot her with a clean, straight one right down the nose to her collarbone. Her fingers reached up and quickly pulled bikini fabric aside from perfectly tunescent tits with rock-cutting nipples. In that moment the pleasure hit those sore little release-muscles in my testicles. I poured on her like a fire hose, sending every kind of falling cum-rainbow on her sweet cheerleader face, her wonderful hair, her sweat-soaked chest.

She half-coughed, half laughed with embarrasment.

"Don't move," I kept squeezing raindrops over her. The delicious tightness of orgasm in my crotch felt only halfway complete. God how I've been lusting for her.

I tugged it for another full minute or so, till it was dry. 

It was still genuinely hard. Not since high school do I remember it being this angry.

"Oh my Lord!" It was Jolene Jonnen from behind the fence again, minus Jim this time. "What a shooter... Lucky you Sarah. Yum. Yum."

Below me, Sarah's cum-soaked head turned slightly left. Her eyelids opened just a bit and her mouth stretched a tad. 

"Did you let him in you yet?" Jolene yelled.

"Nope." Sarah replied with much less volume this time.

"Nope? But you just gave him head, didn't you?"

"Nope." Sarah peeked up at me. I smiled back.

"Just so you know. I woke my daddy up this morning wrapping my lips around his limp dick..." A barking laugh was heard, from Jim, interrupting her. Jolene looked backward and grinned, then back to us. "Oh don't worry, it was just huge, like four times in a row. I got ass penetrated when we showered together this morning."

Sarah propped herself up, and I gave her room. Cumstreams on her face began to slide down. A little pool in the nape of her neck gushed into the tight valley between her gorgeous tits.

"I could use a shower," she said, rising up into me, slick and warm. 

We stood together.

"Brett..." I heard Jim's voice directed at me for the first time. He was nested over Jolene's shoulder again. "That first slide into her..." Jim shook his head in the most sincere expression of ecstacy he could conjour up. "Once in a lifetime heaven! I'm jealous," he exclaimed.

But I was jealous of him, because of the new wince on his daughter's face. Bastard.

I looked down the curvy slope of Sarah's back, as she walked in front of me, hand holding my finger. I looked past her high, tiny waist, to the lovely dimples above her asscheeks, to her shy little crack underneath wet, clingy bikini cloth, and felt my dick twitch like an iron monster.



Lemonade



Thanks to the Hip and Knee Doctor for editing assistance.

*

The last few months had been trying. My wife, Katherine, had been having an affair with a co-worker and it seems like everybody in the world knew about it, but nobody had enough guts to say anything. I was just as guilty as all the others. For some strange reason I was hoping that it would just end and everything would go back to normal. It was a fantasy of course, because it never goes back to the way it was.

We had been married for nineteen years and had three children. Rob was eighteen and a senior. Katherine was pregnant when we got married. A year later we had Donna and the next year, Darcy showed up and Dad got a vasectomy. They were good kids, and we never had any problems with them until recently. Needless to say, the problem with the kids was brought on by the extracurricular activities of their mother.

For the past three years, Katherine worked in the claims department for a large insurance company. When she started working overtime, several nights a week, the kids and I quickly noticed. She got a new hairstyle and joined a gym. Her underwear drawer got a little sexier, but I never got to enjoy it. Donna and Darcy saw her having lunch with her department head, at an upscale restaurant, but she never mentioned it.

In desperation, I decided to follow her like a lovesick puppy. Her trips to motels with her lover were frequent and brazen. Although I didn't see the need for it, I still documented the time and dates of several of their rendezvous. 

As the affair lingered, the family started to fall apart. All of this happened without any conversation. The kids were mad at their mother for cheating. The kids were mad at me for not confronting their mother, and I was trying to hold everything together. I was too dense to realize that it was a lost cause.

The only time the family got together was for the evening meal. Even then, it was an ordeal. There was virtually no conversation and as each of the kids finished eating, they quietly disappeared, usually out of the house until bedtime.

"John, I am not going to be able to take this attitude from the kids for too much longer. If you don't do something to straighten them out, I will."

"I'll take care of it."

"You have been saying that for the last month now. I don't know what has gotten into them. Why did they start acting like little brats all of a sudden? If you have a solution, see if you can get a few answers too."

"Oh, that was no problem. The problem was how to straighten things out. I think we have everything worked out now." 

"Are you going to let me in on it, or is it some big dark secret?"

"No secret. I am going to be moving back with my parents tomorrow."

Katherine was not pleased with this news. She stopped clearing the dinner table and sat back down, with a heavy determined plop. "What the hell are you talking about John? You can't commute to work from Frackville, and I can't take care of this place and the kids by myself. How is that going to solve anything?"

"Actually, Katherine, you won't have to worry about taking care of the kids. They will be going with me."

I was not looking forward to the furrowed brow and the stiff lower lip that I was rewarded with, but I fully expected it. With her elbows on the table my loving wife leaned forward and looked me in the eyes. "There is no way in hell you are leaving this house with my kids. What ever gave you the idea that you could get away with something that stupid?"

'They did."

Katherine let out a sigh of exasperation, got up and started again to clear the table. She was muttering to herself, but I couldn't make anything out. After slamming the last of the china into the sink she turned. "Why? Why is this happening?"

"The best I can figure is that they are tired of being embarrassed."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Mostly, it is about your affair with Bryon Masterson. You have flaunted your infidelity to the point where the entire family is aware of it. You have shown no regard for your children or me."

"What?"

"Are you going to deny it? Are you going to tell me you don't spend several days a week having sex at various motels? Are you going to tell me that I don't understand?"

I decided I didn't want to pursue this conversation any longer. It would have been easy to throw it all in her face, but I didn't have the guts. I pushed back my chair and walked out of the room. Katherine stood by the sink with one hand on her hip. I noticed a defiant look on her face, as if she was daring me to mention her infidelity. I got the feeling that she had been baiting me all along, so that she could have an excuse to stop carrying around the guilt. This was a lecture I was not going to be on the receiving end of tonight. I had no desire to hear that I had driven her to seek comfort elsewhere, because I was a mediocre husband and a poor lover. Of course I could accuse her of being a slut and a whore, but I would still end up getting the blame for everything. I knew Katherine, and I knew that she had planned everything she was going to say beforehand. My best play was to not play at all.

"What about your job?"

"I quit."

I heard her screaming my name as I walked out the door.

I had no idea where the kids were. All of their clothes and personal belongings were loaded into Rob's Subaru Outback. The wagon had over a hundred thousand miles on it, but I figured it still had another hundred thousand left in it. All of my clothing and personal papers were in the back of my Jeep. Katherine didn't notice any of this when she came home. We all agreed that whatever we couldn't get on the first trip, we could come back for later. I was sure that Katherine was checking the house out as I drove away. There was no going back at this point. I decided that I had to call Donna. Donna always seemed to be in control. Rob was the oldest and the male, but he had no problem letting Donna call most of the shots.

"Donna. It's Dad."

"Are you still at the house?"

"No. I am on my way to a motel right now. I had to tell your mother what was going on, but not why. I think it is best if you guys find some place to stay tonight. Can you contact Rob?" 

"No problem. Darcy and I are going to stay with Betsy Cooper. I am not sure what Rob has planned, but I think I can get in touch with him."

"Okay. Meet me at the Waffle House on Lancaster Pike tomorrow morning at six. We can leave for Frackville from there."

"Dad. Was mom mad?"

"I think so. I'll tell you about it tomorrow. Oh, after you call Rob, it might be better to turn your phone off."

After checking into the Deska Motel, I turned off my cell phone.

I just finished taking a shower when there was a knock on the door. I opened it, expecting a furious Katherine, but instead found a smiling Rob. There weren't that many motels in town.

By seven o'clock the next morning we were on our way to the coal regions, and home.

Katherine and I never got around to discussing my work situation. It didn't matter, because I was now unemployed. The normal thing to do under these conditions is to stash away as much cash as possible without looking like you are doing it. If I filed for divorce, I would have to go through the process of declaring assets and coming up with a fair distribution. I figured, the hell with it. Nobody likes to see his credit go belly up, but under the circumstances it seemed like a good idea to me. If I wasn't working, the kids could qualify for lots of grants and other benefits when it came time for college. I would see to it that they got everything they needed, but it might not be aboveboard. Living with Mom and Dad would also cover a lot of other usual expenses. 

I was pretty sure that Katherine wouldn't wait too long before filing divorce papers. I would probably go along with anything she demanded just to get out of the marriage. There wasn't much she could get, since I did not have a job and the kids would not go with her even if they were ordered to do so. All I could do now was sit back and wait. I had a basket of lemons and I was getting ready to make lemonade. 

It was great being back in my hometown. The last time I actually lived there was just before I left for college. After graduation, the closest place I could get a half decent job was in Reading. Katherine was from Baltimore so she didn't mind being just a few hours from home. We had gotten married just before I started my last semester at Penn State. Katherine never finished because of her pregnancy. She never had any desire to return to school. I think she attended to get away from her parents and to find a husband. Somehow or other, I won the marriage lottery. My prize was three great kids and a bitch for a wife. I had regrets of course, but I was not one to live in the past. I did not know that my past was going to catch up with me so quickly. 

Because I had lots of old friends in the area, getting an under-the-table job was not too difficult. I stashed away as much money as I could to keep it out of Katherine's hands. Things would be rough until she finally got the divorce started, if she did. All three of the kids pitched in without being asked. Under the circumstances, I think they felt sort of obligated. I didn't leave Katherine because they wanted me to, but they seemed to feel that way. Mom and Dad reluctantly took money from us, although I don't think it was necessary. They didn't want me to feel like a moocher. 

Katherine called after two weeks and wanted to know if I was going to make the mortgage payment. I told her that I wasn't. Two weeks later she called to tell me that her car insurance needed to be renewed. I gave her the same answer. Katherine attempted to start a conversation related to the affair. She was trying to be apologetic and sincere, but it just didn't come across. I listened patiently as she explained how her friendship with Masterson came about and developed into a full sexual relationship. She assured me that he was only a physical attraction, and nothing more. After several minutes, she realized how ridiculous it all sounded and stopped talking in mid-sentence. I didn't respond. 

"I'm sorry, John. I have no good excuse for what I did. I am truly sorry."

She stopped calling after that.

I guess my wife finally realized that the marriage could not be saved, and filed for the divorce. She was faced with a mortgage payment and a car payment, as well as all the utilities. Of course, I was obligated for these bills, but I felt that since thousands of other dead-beat dads were avoiding things like that, so could I. It was worth the risk at this point. I signed the papers, and the power of attorney to sell the house, as soon as I received them. Now it was just a matter of time. Katherine had asked for nothing other than the house. After closing costs and commissions, she wouldn't come away with much. 

Rob was getting all his paper work together for college. We had to stay in the state to afford the tuition. Most of the grants would be difficult to get because I had to submit a copy of last year's income tax. I was able to explain my present employment status, and get several of them to waive the income provision. Unfortunately, Rob had other more pressing problems. My past was coming back to haunt me, and he would be caught in the middle.

"Dad, I have a small problem."

"I assume it's something that you feel I can help you with."

"I met a girl a few weeks ago and I really like her."

At least the conversation started out on a high note. Rob had dated several girls though high school, but never expressed any serious interest in any of them. It was refreshing to hear him admit that he might be in a potentially long-term relationship. "I am sure you are not referring to a talk about the birds and the bees."

"No, I think I got that one aced. I met her mother for the first time and as soon as I introduced myself she got upset. After I left, she told Shannon that she couldn't see me anymore. She never did that with any of her previous boyfriends. Her mother did not give her any further explanation. I guess Shannon got a little testy with her mom, because she finally agreed to back off, but only if you talked with her."

"Let me get this straight. This girl's mother will let the two of you date, but only if she talks to me first."

"That's pretty much it. Shannon said she never did anything like this before."

"I guess I can find the time. You set it up and let me know where and when." Rob left the room with a big grin and I sat there wondering why this woman would have to meet with me before approving their relationship. 

That evening, Rob drove us to Shannon's place. It was an old shotgun house just off the main drag. The house needed painting badly and the slate sidewalk should have been re-leveled years ago. Shannon was waiting just inside the front door and anxiously opened it, as we approached. 

"Hi. I'm Shannon." She was bubbly and cute. I could see why Rob was attracted to her. "We really appreciate this, Mister Rishel. I am sorry about having to ask you over like this, but Mom insisted. I hope you don't mind."

"Don't worry about it. I am sure we can get things worked out in no time."

"Mom. Mister Rishel is here."

My heart stood still as my old high school/college sweetheart, Abigail Connor, walked into the room. "Hello John."

"Hi Abby." The words came out of my mouth automatically.

There was an awkward silence in the room, which Rob quickly broke. "You guys know each other?"

She didn't take her eyes off me. "Your father and I went to school together."

Shannon seemed happy about the new situation. "Well that should make things easier, right?"

"I have a fresh pot of coffee ready. I think we might be more comfortable in the kitchen." I dutifully followed her to the back of the house. As I went to sit, she turned to the kids. "You two better wait in the front room for a while. Turn on the TV and no messing around. I'll call you in a few minutes." 

Abby started to get the coffee and I started to reminisce. We were in the fall semester of our final year at Penn State. Abby and I had a fight because I didn't want to come home for Thanksgiving break. She went without me. While she was gone, I partied, got drunk, and got arrested for disorderly conduct. My parents were not happy, and Abby refused to talk to me when she got back. She was still mad at me when the semester ended and she went home for Christmas alone. I was in bad graces with mom and dad, so I stayed on campus over the holidays. That's when the bad news came.

It was between Christmas and New Years when Katherine approached me in the student union. According to her, during one of my drunken binges at the frat house, we had sex and she was now pregnant. Because of the situation with my parents at the time, I didn't want to aggravate them further. Without giving it too much thought, the two of us drove down to Gretna Green that day and got married. I didn't tell my parents until after graduation the next spring. Abby found out about the marriage, when she returned to school, after News Years, and immediately dropped out. I don't know if she ever finished.

"You're daydreaming." Her words woke me up, as the mug appeared before me. She was twenty years older than when I last saw her and still beautiful. My mind was racing, comparing what should have been and what was. 

'I'm sorry. I wasn't prepared for this. You'll have to let my brain catch up before I can be worth a shit."

Abby had always been easy to talk to, and I always felt comfortable with her. I don't even remember what we argued about before we drifted apart. It was at that moment when I realized that I didn't even know her married name. Rob had never mentioned what Shannon's last name was. 

It was time to break the ice. I was trying to be cool and yet open. "Is there a Mister Abby about, or is it just going to be the two of us for this discussion?"

She didn't smile at my pathetic attempt at humor. 

"That's why I asked you here. I am not looking for anything, but I am hoping we can avoid a problem."

"What do you mean 'you are not looking for anything'?"

"John, I never married. I tried dating a few guys, but nothing ever worked out. Most of them were not interested in an unmarried mom and were just looking for easy sex with no strings attached."

"I still don't understand."

"Damn it, John. You are Shannon's father. There, I said it. I was hoping I could tell you in a more sophisticated way, but sometimes things don't work out like we plan."

Of course I had no clue. "Can I have some more coffee?"

"That's it? That is all you have to say?"

"I guess I understand why you told them they couldn't see each other anymore."

"Unfortunately, I think it might have been too late. By the time I figured out that you were Rob's father, they had already consummated their relationship."

"Oh God. You are telling me that my son and my daughter are having sex."

"I am pretty sure."

"I thought brothers and sisters were supposed to hate each other." 

The fresh coffee was too hot to drink. I blew across the top of the cup as my daughter's mother stared at me, waiting for some words of wisdom that I could not offer.

"Abby, I don't think we have any choice, do we? We have to tell them and hope that it's not too late."

There was a sudden mood change across the table. "I'm sorry, John. I should have told you, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. You had just gotten married, and I didn't want to screw things up for you."

"So you choose to ruin your own life instead?"

"I have a beautiful, intelligent daughter. I did not ruin my life, I just had to make a few adjustments."

I drained my cup of coffee and leaned back in my chair.

"By the way, John. I don't want to appear nosy, but where is Katherine?"

"I am afraid that we are estranged." I always thought that was a neat word, but never thought I would get a chance to use it.

"Oh. Sorry I asked."

We sat there for several moments, neither of us saying anything.

"John, do you want to tell them or should I do it?"

"You go ahead and I will support you as best as I can."

Less than a minute later Shannon and Rob were sitting at the kitchen table with us. Abby slid a folded piece of paper across the Formica to Shannon.

"Oh, my gosh!" Shannon immediately got Rob's attention and she hadn't even unfolded the paper yet.

"What's going on?"

"It is the mysterious birth certificate that I wasn't supposed to see until I was twenty one."

Rob looked perplexed. "What the hell is so unusual about a birth certificate?"

Shannon didn't answer. She had unfolded the form and was staring at it with her mouth open. "No. No. This can't be true. There has to be a mistake. Mom, tell me it's not true."

Abby didn't answer her daughter. She was staring at the floor. Rob was trying to look at the paper, but Shannon was hiding it from him."

"Mom, please. Tell me it's not true."

There was still no answer. In disgust, Shannon threw the birth certificate across the table and ran out of the room crying.

"Dad, what the hell is going on?"

"I'm sorry Rob. It was a hard thing for us to tell you, but you had to know."

"Know what? Damn it!"

"Shannon is your sister."

The kitchen fell silent. Far off, somewhere in the house, we could hear Shannon weeping. Rob got up slowing and walked out of the room. I was sure he had a million questions, but he wasn't looking for answers right now. He had more important things to do. A few moments later the sobbing became less intense.

"Abby, you don't happen to have a beer, do you?"

Abby and I had just finished our second beer, when Rob reappeared. "Can we go home now, Dad?"

Two days later Rob decided to speak to me again. Things had been gloomy around the house and I was relieved that something was going to happen. 




Lemonade



"I want DNA tests done. I have the money to pay for them and I won't take no for an answer."

"Where do we get this done?"

"There is a lab in Allentown. It's two hundred dollars for each test. I want tests on Shannon, you and myself."

"Well if we are going to go to that trouble, we might as well get the girls tested also. I'll pick up the tab. Do we have to drive down there or do they mail us the stuff we need for the testing?"

"Either, but I'd rather go there."

"Fine. You set everything up and we'll make a day of it. I'll even spring for supper at the Olive Garden."

That afternoon I called the Continental Fire and Flood Casualty office. I spoke to the head of the company's legal department. He was not really interested in my marital situation and quickly told me so, however, he was interested in how Bryan Masterson paid for the motel rooms he had been using. When I mentioned that Masterson was Katherine's boss and that I wanted more information about the company's infidelity policy, he quickly ended the conversation.

A few days later, Katherine called. For some strange reason she had lost her job and was having trouble paying the bills. She sounded upset when I told her that I had not been able to find work and that I was sponging off my parents. She wanted me to give her enough money so that she could move back to Baltimore. She had the house up for sale, but it was not going well. She was hoping to get out of Pennsylvania before her car got repossessed. She tried again to rationalize her affair with Masterson, but quickly abandoned the attempt when I offered no response.

Although she didn't mention it, I knew that Bryan Masterson had also been laid off. She never figured out what happened.

Two days later, everything changed. I walked into the house and found Rob and Shannon on the couch, smiling like two Cheshire cats.

They just sat with silly grins on their faces as I got a cold Fosters.

"Okay. What's up? Why the long faces?" It was a weak attempt at humor. They laughed anyhow.

"Do you want the good news or the good news?"

"Don't you have that a little wrong?"

"We don't think so. Well maybe a little of it is bad news, but overall it is pretty good."

"Quit screwing with me."

"Donna and Darcy are both your daughters. The DNA matched."

"I assume they are happy about that?"

"They don't know yet."

"What are you not telling me?"

"Shannon is your daughter. Another near perfect match."

"I am still a little confused. Where does the good-good part of this kick in?" 

"Don't freak out now, but I am not your son."

I was not expecting that. I loved Rob with all my heart and raised him as any good father would. Now he is telling me that I am not his father.

"I need another beer."

The grins had vanished from Rob and Shannon's faces. Things had suddenly gotten a little more serious and a little less lighthearted. I returned with a new longneck and slumped into my chair.

"Dad, it doesn't change anything between the two of us. You are still my father no matter what the DNA says. I don't know who the sperm donor was, but you will always be my father."

I had half of the new bottle finished. "I don't know whether to be happy or sad. I don't know if it is good news or bad news. I don't know what to do. I just don't know what to do."

My new daughter and my former son just sat on the couch, without saying anything.

"Have you told your mother yet, Shannon?"

"No."

"Why don't you kids run over and give her the news. I have lots of things I have to think about."

Mom and Dad were in the kitchen trying to avoid the entire situation. They were always good about that.

"John, if there is anything we can do please let us know. We won't offer advice, but are more than willing to help in any other way." Dad was always there for me. I wanted to do the same for Rob.

Abby found me several hours later, at the Circle Bar. I don't know how she knew I was there and I don't remember getting drunk. In retrospect, I don't know why I got drunk. Things weren't all that bad, just mixed up. It had been ten years since I overindulged, and I had no good excuse for doing it now.

I woke up on the couch in Abby's house. Somehow or other, she got me there. I was still dressed, but my shoes were off. I pissed myself, and was justifiably embarrassed when I realized it. I smelled the fresh coffee, but the toilet got precedence.

She was waiting at the kitchen table when I shuffled back from the bathroom. The bathrooms in these older homes were always on the second floor, so I was forced to attack the stairs in order to use it. I won that battle, though barely. Abby offered me nothing but coffee, which was fine under the circumstances.

"I sure did make a mess of things. I don't know who to apologize to first."

"It appears that you were not the only one who had sex with Katherine that weekend. You just drew the short straw."

"Hell, I don't even remember having sex with her. I assumed that I did because of the way she approached me. I didn't have an alibi and no way to prove that I didn't sleep with her. I took the easy way out, like a jerk. Man, I must be the biggest sucker in the world." 

There was no reply from across the table. Finally she spoke up. "Hey, don't look at me. I agree with your self evaluation all the way."

"I don't know what to do."

"I thought the divorce was already started."

"It is, but I feel that I should be doing something else."

"I think what you should be doing right now is taking a shower and shaving."

I was in pretty bad shape. I also felt like shit. "Can you give me a ride home?"

Rob was in high spirits the next few days. The girls seemed to be satisfied with their situation, genetically, but still not happy with the mother that they felt they were stuck with. My Mom and Dad were as supportive as they could be without sticking their noses where they were not wanted. It was appreciated. Rob was the one who decided that more action was necessary.

"Dad, I want to make lemonade."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know how you always said if the world gives you lemons, make lemonade?"

I nodded my head to indicate yes. 

"Well, we got a bunch of lemons. Let's get started."

How proud could a dad be?

"She must know, Dad. Mom has to know who my real father might be. It was at the frat house, right? That means that it was one of your 'brothers' who got Mom pregnant and let you take the blame. Isn't there some way you can get her to give you some names?"

"Wow. You are assuming it was more than one. It appears that you don't think very much of your mother."

"Not after what she did to you then, and what she is doing now. She was a sleaze and she is still a sleaze. How the hell did you stay with her all these years?

I ignored the last question. "I got an idea. I don't know if it will work, but it is worth a try."

That afternoon I called my loving wife. I had tried to arrange in my mind what I wanted to say, but I was afraid that I would end up getting flustered and blow it.

"John, what can I do for you? I wasn't expecting a call."

From the tone of her voice, I was afraid that she might consider the call an attempt at reconciliation. I was going to have to be very careful not to mislead her.

"I was thinking about our last conversation. You mentioned something about wanting to move in with your sister. Is that something you are still considering?"

"Yeah. Did you come up with a way to help me out? If you did, I would be grateful."

"I can give you two thousand dollars to help you get started, but I need a couple things in return."

"Okay, that will really help. What do you need?"

"I assume that you are not aware that I had DNA tests done on all the kids."

"Oh shit." From her muffled out burst, she had no idea about the tests.

"I'm am so sorry, John. I was hoping that this would never come up. Things seemed to be so good between you and Rob."

I found it interesting that she mentioned Rob, but not Darcy or Donna.

"And what about the girls?"

"I don't know what you mean, John. What about the girls" 

"Weren't you concerned about their DNA tests?"

"No, why would I?"

Her reply seemed sincere and I decided not to pursue the subject any further.

"I would like the name, or names, of who Rob's father is or might be. Give me that and you can have the two thousand dollars."

The pause at the other end was far longer than I expected. 

"Katherine, whoever this guy is, he didn't think enough of you to make you an honest woman. Why would you feel that you owed him some sort of secrecy? He used you and dumped you on me. I am the one that needs consideration, not him."

"Okay. Okay. There were three of them. I don't know which one is the father." 

"A few names would be appreciated."

"Kyle Simmons, Ray Thorensen, and Phillip Burger."

I knew all of them. Three spoiled rich kids, who felt that they could get away with anything. They were all loyal fraternity brothers who turned out not to be too loyal. . 

"Thanks Katherine. I appreciate it."

"What else was it that you said you wanted John?"

"If you are not going to be staying in the house and you can't sell it, can I have it?"

"Oh my, yes. I can't sell it, and would like nothing more than to let you have it. Even if I find a buyer, I would not make enough from the transaction to pay the real estate commission. You can have it as soon as I move out. I'll sign any papers you have. John, I also have a small favor."

"What is that Katherine?"

"Is there any way you can arrange for the kids and I to get together? Nothing fancy, but I am their mother, never the less, and I really would like to see them occasionally."

"I am sure I can set something up."

Two days later, Katherine had her two thousand dollars and I had title to the house, and the mortgage. 

Rob had no trouble getting loads of information on his possible sperm donors. The DNA information was a little more difficult, but not impossible. 

Ray Thorensen was a high school teacher in Altoona. All state employees were required to have their DNA on file. Those files were not available to the public, but Rob had no trouble figuring out how to get what he needed. Ray Thorensen was not Rob's father.

Phillip Burger was a guest of the Ohio penal system. It seemed that Phil liked young girls: girls that the state seemed to feel should not be sleeping with men old enough to be their fathers. It's not my place to judge, but I was glad that Phillip's whereabouts were available. Of course all people of Phillip's caliber are in the database. I don't know how Rob got access to this one, but the end result was that Phil was not Rob's father. 

If Katherine had been straight with me, that meant that Kyle Simmons had to be the one. The search was on.

Seymour Schlamp and I went to high school together. Seymour went to Dickerson and got a law degree when I went to Penn State. Seymour and the law was not a match made in heaven. He was not the straightest arrow in the quiver: in fact he was sleazy to say the least. However he was the ideal candidate for our project. 

Using the Nittany Lions Alumni news and the fraternity web pages we located Lieutenant Colonel Simmons at Andrews Air Force Base in Maryland. Kyle was a big deal in ROTC at college and it seemed like he made a career of it. Abby had a cousin in the Pennsylvania National Guard who was able to get hold of Kyle's DNA record. We had a match. Houston, we are ready to launch.

Katherine was out of the house by the end of the week. Rather than paying the back mortgage payments, I just refinanced the whole thing, eliminating Katherine's name on all the documents. I moved back into the house, but the kids wanted to stay at Frackville to finish the school year. Rob wanted to stay to be near Shannon. I think I wanted to be near Abby, but there were still things that had to be done.

I was amazed at the poor job that Katherine's lawyer did. It would have been very easy for him to determine that I hadn't quit my job, just took a leave of absence. It appeared that he never checked. I got the feeling that he used a fill-in-the-blank divorce form that he downloaded off the Internet. It would still be several months until it was final, but I wasn't anticipating a problem. The bad part about getting my job back was the loss of the college grants for Rob. The good part was that I would be able to pay the tuition or qualify for a loan. 

Abby worked in an office that did medical billing for doctors. It was a straight nine to five job, five days a week. I started spending all my weekends at Frackville. Rob and Shannon were getting along fine with one small glitch: Shannon was spending a lot of time with Darcy and Donna. Mostly it was shopping, but Rob wasn't nuts about sharing her. Abby and I thought it was funny, in a good way.

For some reason, Abby and I were behaving more like friends than former lovers. It seemed like neither one of us was willing to make the first move towards intimacy.

Seymour flooded the legal system with all the paper he could think of. He worked on the shotgun theory. He figured if he filed enough cases against Simmons, one or two of them might stick. He was also hoping for at least one partial admission of guilt so that he could attach Kyle's pay. I wasn't paying him a cent, but he didn't seem to mind as long as he got a cut off the top.

I didn't want anything out of the lawsuits, but it would be nice if we could get Rob's college paid for. That would make it easier when the girls started. Things stayed pretty much the same between Rob and I. The DNA thing didn't seem to bother either of us. Rob was just happy that he wasn't Shannon's brother. I was glad that I was her father, but I wished I could have spent more time with her when she was growing up. She sort of got screwed in this whole deal, but didn't seem upset about it.

Things began to normalize. I got everything straightened out with the house, but hated living alone. Rob and Shannon finished school, and were both working. Rob would be leaving for State College in two months. Shannon was going to start a two-year program at the Reading Area Community College in some sort of medical administration field. 

Katherine called from Baltimore. Things were not going well between her and her parents. She was still living with her sister and could not afford to get a place of her own. She was having trouble getting work, because of the bad references from her last employer. She was sorry for everything and wished she could take it all back. She hoped that I could forgive her. Although forgiveness on my part was out of the question, she was happy to hear that the girls were planning a trip to Baltimore to see her. The conversation ended on a high note for.

My life started to get better toward the end of the summer. The divorce was final and there were no strings attached. Kyle Simmons admitted paternity of Rob on the advice of his lawyer. In lieu of a cash settlement, it was agreed that Kyle would pay all of Rob's college expenses for four years. Kyle also ended up paying Seymour's fees. To make things worse for good old Kyle, his wife filed for divorce, which included her entitlement to 49% of Kyle impending retirement. Using simple math, Kyle's wife determined that Rob was conceived just four weeks before her marriage date. Coupled with several other indiscretions over the years, it turned out to be the straw that broke the camel's back.

The best surprise came when Abby showed up at the house. It was too late for supper, but perfect for a bottle of wine. She had nothing to say until we got comfortable.

"John, I need a favor?"

I liked how she opened the conversation, because I felt obligated to her, and wanted to do something for her.

"Shannon will be starting classes at RACC in a few weeks, and I am not happy about her commuting, especially over the winter through the mountains. I was wondering if it would be all right if she stayed here with you?"

"Of course. The girls are moving back in and I think they will all get along great."

"There is one other problem. We have never been separated before and I am hesitant to leave her alone."

"She won't be alone. I will be here and so will the girls."

I could tell that I said the wrong thing, by the look of exasperation on her face.

"I'm sorry, Abby. I guess that wasn't the right answer. I can see that you were expecting something else. Can you help me out here?"

"I swear John Rishel, you are the densest man I know. I am not going to let you off the hook, again. I am going to sit here until you figure it out. Give me some more wine."

Well it only took me about five seconds to realize what was going on. Before I finished pouring her wine, I was grinning from ear to ear.

Epilogue: Well, everything came out, as it should have. Rob is doing well at Penn State and makes it home every chance he gets. Shannon has great grades at RACC and will be finishing a half year early. Donna has been accepted at James Madison University in Virginia with a nice scholarship. Darcy still hasn't decided on a college. Abby, Mrs. Rishel, has a nice little medical billing practice going for a three county area. She is hoping that Shannon will be ready to cover for her when the baby is due.

We drink a lot of lemonade. 

As that famous English author always says: "Life goes on."



Lemonade



Copyright @ shuttlepilot
All rights reserved, 2011


If life gives you lemons...

He put his half-eaten hot dog down and called his sister's house at 8 o'clock that evening. "Hi, Karen, let me speak to Terri, please. She's not answering her phone."

"Doug, she's not here right now. She left with Peter to go to the store. Her phone battery's dead, that's all. I'll have you call her as soon as I can, OK?"

"I was just worried, that's all. She didn't call, you know? If she's all right, then just tell her I love her and I'll see her Sunday evening. Thanks."

"Goodbye, Doug. I'll let her know."

The doorbell rang and he found Mrs. Kittrell standing on the dark porch. "Don't you believe in lights, Doug? A person could get hurt out here."

"What can I do for you? I'm a little busy." 

"I need some help with the house. It shouldn't take too long." She stood there, waiting for him as he sighed, locked up his house and followed her across the street. "My window won't close and it's getting cold. Would you like some cake? I just baked a chocolate cake and I know you'd like a big piece."

Doug looked at the woman and then back at his own empty house. "Sure, why not? I'd like that very much."

**********

Saturday morning arrived with a shrill beep-beep-beep and he reached to turn off the forgotten alarm, knocking it off the nightstand and onto the floor. Every part of his body was sore. Mrs. Kittrell's window turned into a leaky toilet which turned into a dripping faucet which turned into a squeaky door. It was close to midnight before he got back home and for a moment, there, he suspiciously thought the woman needed something else fixed, too. She seemed to hang on his every word and hovered nearby while he did the work.

"Damn it!" He tried to reach for it without getting out of bed but it had bounced beneath the bedframe and out of reach. He pulled the covers back and went onto the floor, reaching into the dusty cavern beneath the bed. As the dust-covered clock came out, he sneezed. How many times, he wondered, had he asked Terri to vacuum under the bed. He was sure his allergies had started when she had stopped caring for the house like she used to.

Doug went into the bathroom and pulled out his Astepro. Inhaling deeply, he could feel the mist surge through his nose as he depressed it.

He got back into the empty bed, looking at her side of the bed. The pillow lay there, untouched. Her twice-a-month weekends to her sister's house had become standard practice two years earlier. There never was any explanation from her why her sudden interest in staying the weekend was so important and he had just believed it was her longing for sisterly companionship. It had, though, gotten out of hand and something needed to be done about it.

Doug spent the morning working next door with Pierce on his old car and then watched a couple of football games and USC destroyed Notre Dame, again, even though it was closer this time than in years. He sat there then and realized he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He remembered Mrs. Kittrell's chocolate cake and wished he had another piece. That woman sure knew her way around the kitchen.

Walking into his own kitchen, he opened the pantry and took out a box of pasta shells and started boiling water. Eventually, he was back in the den watching the end of another one-sided game. 

He looked at the clock on his cell and called Karen again. "Well, put her on, then." Sometimes, Doug thought his sister was dense.

"She's really sick, Doug. She might even be late coming home. If she doesn't get better we'll take her to the ER."

"Well, just put the phone to her ear so I can talk a little, will you?" He was getting angry with his sister. "Karen, put her on the damn phone."

"Doug, she's dead asleep. Really..."

"Do I have to drive up there?"

"Oh, no... we'll take care of it. Really... don't worry; it's probably just a case of food poisoning or something. You'll see."

"Call me, then, when she wakes up. Is her phone charged, now?"

"Uh... the battery's dead. It won't take a charge and you'll have to get a new one. Look, my little one is crying and I've got to go. OK?"

Doug hung up; his sister was short with him, certainly not like her usual silly self, but then neither was he. 

*********

Sunday evening arrived without his wife and Doug called Karen one last time.

"What do you mean, 'she's not there'? When did she leave?"

"I don't really remember... sometime this morning."

"She's not here, yet. I'm calling the police." He dialed 911 and reported his wife missing but was given the expected delay. It wasn't enough time, they said; she's not a child, they said.

Late Monday night, there was a call from them, saying they found his wife's car by chance in a chop-shop raid just before it was going to disappear into a crusher. Then came the apologies and recriminations and promises. Now, that she was officially gone. Two detectives promised to come by Tuesday morning and he took the day off from work.

**********

Alfred Jones, the lead detective, looked at Susan Phillips, his partner and then, Doug.

"When did you notice your wife was missing?" The tall, dark-haired detective had his notebook out, pen at the ready. His partner was a slightly shorter, willowy red-haired beauty and she pulled out a small, digital recorder and set it down on her laptop case.

"I called Friday night, her sister's house and Karen, that's her sister, said that she was out with Peter, that's the brother, to the store and so I said, you know, OK, tell her I love her and then I called the next day and they told me she was sick." Doug sat on the sofa, his hands held tightly together.

"Why didn't you call your wife's cell phone?" The pen was rapidly writing but Jones was watching the man's face.

"I did but there was no answer. Karen said the battery had died and they were trying to charge it up and then she said it was dead and had to be replaced."

"Does your wife visit her sister often?" The willowy red-head finally spoke, looking up from her laptop's screen.

"Why are you asking all these questions? You should be out there looking for her." Doug stood up and paced the floor. He walked to the front windows and looked out onto the street and then to Mrs. Kittrell's house.

"Mr. Portelli, please sit down. We're looking for her. We're just trying to get a handle on your wife's usual conduct, that's all." She watched the man's face, hoping for some sign, some signal, something.

"All right, I guess," Doug sighed. "She'd go about twice a month, usually; once in a while, more even though I told her I didn't like it... being gone all the time. She'd always call me, you know, letting me know she was there and we'd say goodnight. This is the first time this has ever happened. And, now... you tell me you found her car?"

"Mr. Portelli, we found your wife's car in East L.A. It was in a chop shop." The redhead seemed too eager to share that bit of information and Jones looked at her, a mixture of amusement and gentle admonishment on his face.

"Jesus Christ! I knew it... I called you guys to look for her and got the run-around. Now her car has been stolen and she's missing. What the fuck more do you want? Shit, I've got to change the locks. God knows who's got the keys." Doug sat back down, heavily sinking into the cushion.

"We'll need your sister's information so we can go see her." Jones seemed all right with Phillips asking most of the questions. He had been her only partner ever since she made detective last year and he was pleased with the progress she was making, learning what and how.

"Sure, here, I'll write it all down for you. Will you need directions to the house?" He went to find a pen.

"No, that's OK, we can find it." Phillips looked intently at something on her screen.

"Am I going to need a lawyer on this? Every cop show, the husband's always the suspect."

"I'll be honest, Mr. Portelli, right now, you're our only suspect but we'll clear you as soon as we can. OK? Since you mention it, where were you over the weekend?

"Friday night, I was with Mrs. Kittrell... she lives across the street. She needed a window fixed before it got dark but it kept going. She needed this and then that and then the other thing. I didn't get out of there until way late. I couldn't get out of there; she kept coming up with something else for me to do. Saturday, I spent most of the morning with Jack Pierce, he lives next door. We're fooling around with his old car. I think it's a piece of junk but he likes it and then I watched football games. Sunday, I just spent the day here, watching football and wondering where the hell my wife was and why hadn't she called."

"Mrs. Kittrell, you say?"

"Yes... just, find my wife. Please..."

Jones and Phillips walked across the street and disappeared into Mrs. Kittrell's house. Shortly, they left, crossed the street and knocked on Pierce's door but there was no one home. Jones left his card in the doorjamb, asking the man to call.

The two detectives drove away as Doug stood on his porch, watching them leave. He went back inside the house, closed the drapes in the living room and went to lie down. What a horrible weekend, he thought through his tears. He knew he'd never see his wife again.

"What do you think, Susan?" asked Jones as they sped up the onramp onto the 405 and headed north to Ventura.

"I don't know. Whatever's going on, he definitely is sad and upset. She backs up his story for Friday night but he doesn't have much of an alibi for earlier in the day since he only worked a half-day. Pierce will probably be the same thing. Besides, he says hiss kept giving him the run-around, so let's see what the sister has to say. I think there's more going on than Portelli is saying or knows."

Traffic slowed to a crawl and Jones decided to take the Coast Highway to Ventura rather than fight their way to the 101. An hour and a half later, give or take a few minutes, they finally found the Hancocks' house.

"This should be interesting," Phillips said, never trusting anyone except her partner. "You know, we're way out of our jurisdiction."

"We go where the case takes us, you know that."

'Ding-dong' went the front bell and the door was opened by a child about six. She looked at them, eyes wide open in surprise. "Mommy! There's people here!"

"Damn it, Leslie! How many times have I told you not to open the door? Go to your room!"

A dishwater blonde opened the door wider. "Yes?" she asked, a half-burnt cigarette dangling from her lips, her bathrobe loosely open.

Jones glanced at Phillips; the sister wasn't anything like they expected considering the Portellis' upper-middle class house. He cleared his throat and pulled out his badge. "Uh, Mrs. Hancock? I'm Detective Jones and this is my partner, Detective Phillips. We're here to talk about your sister."

The woman's face blanched and then she tried to regain her composure. "I... come in. Sorry the house's a mess... kids, you know."

The two detectives looked around the room. It looked like a tornado had blown through minutes before with children's toys scattered around the furniture. Mixed in the mess were a couple of empty beer cans.

She hurriedly cleared off the sofa and an easy chair. "Sorry..." she said, again. "You said, this is about Terri?"

Jones noticed a shiver run through the woman's body. "Yes... she's missing. We're trying to determine what time she left your house Sunday."

The woman's face paled, once again. Just then, her husband walked in from the back yard. He was an older man and although looking physically fit, the detectives could see he had lived a hard life.

"Who are you and what's this about?" he asked. He set his Coors down on the coffee table.

"Good morning, Mr. Hancock. We're Jones and Phillips, LAPD and we're looking into the disappearance of your sister."

"Why are you asking us? I haven't seen that... her in at least a year. Karen goes to visit her down in Venice when they meet."

Jones glanced at Phillips but his partner kept her face stone-cold at this new information. Oh, shit, he thought, this just got interesting.

"Perhaps, it would be better if we all sat down?" Jones said. "I think this is going to take a while."

When the detectives finally left, they left with Peter Hancock, convincing him it was for his own good to leave the house for a while before he did something more than throw a table lamp through the television. They stood talking on the front lawn.

"Mr. Hancock... please, for your own good, leave your wife alone. We're going to overlook the TV business but you're only going to get yourself in jail if you do anything else." Jones hoped the man would listen to his words.

"Oh, don't worry about me; I'm divorcing her sorry ass... the cheating bitch. I can't believe it. I took her out of that nowhere 7-11 job and trailer park and gave her a home and a last name for her kid. Her tramp of a sister was waitressing down at Maria's on Main until she somehow met Doug and they married. I thought she changed her ways, considering how well he treated her. Jesus Christ, you can't trust anyone, can you? No, I'm good. I'm not going to jail for her or anyone else, I've been there and it's not worth it. Oh, my God, what about Doug? He's going to freak when he finds out. Are you going to tell him?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"You want me to do it?" Peter Hancock looked ready to drive all the way to Los Angeles to do so.

"No... that's something we're going to have to do. Please, don't call him, OK? We need to see how he reacts to this bit of news. Are you sure he's unaware of what his wife was doing?"

"Are you kidding? That guy worshipped the ground she walked on. He did everything for her. This is going to kill him. Well, then, I've got to go to the bank and take care of some things."

"Here's my card, Mr. Hancock. Don't do anything stupid, now," said Phillips.

"Too late for that, Detective, I already did three years ago. But, it's not too late to take care of it... now. Damn it!"

"Susan, you drive, will you?" Jones said as he settled himself in the passenger seat.

"Fine, but let's get something to eat, first. There's a place I know down by the marina, here."

"All right, you win. Beats a Whopper, I guess. Jesus, anything beats a Whopper."

"You're going to kill yourself eating all that crap if you don't watch out... what'd you say?"

"Trailer trash, we used to call people like that."

At the marina, Phillips looked at the menu and ordered the crab salad. Jones chose the fish and chips.

"You know, Al, keep eating all that fried food and you're going to die." Phillips took a sip of her Coke.

"Yeah, well... that was classic. He picked up that lamp and threw it through the screen. 'Jerry Springer, this, you bitch!' Classic." Jones laughed. "That show is... it can't be real. How can people be THAT screwed up? Oh, honey, I've got something to tell you and it'll be on TV... ah, c'mon."

"What do you think Portelli's response is going to be?" Phillips' salad arrived and she started to eat.

"I don't know. Was she able to hide her trampy personality all this time? Must have, if he was worshipping the ground she walked on. Poor bastard." Jones looked at his fish and chips, wondering if his choice was the best after all.

"Assuming he's innocent..." Phillips said.

"Assuming he's innocent," Jones laughed. "He still doesn't have an alibi for the late morning."

"Only guilty people have alibis for every minute of the day." 

Later, as Phillips drove south on PCH, Jones was going over what they had learned and putting his notes into his laptop. "You know," he said, "this is going a whole new direction, now. I wonder who the boyfriend is."

"We better find out, that's for sure. If Portelli found out, it puts him back on the front burner. What do you think? Is he the avenging husband?" Phillips glanced at her partner before honking at a car trying to cut them off.

"I don't know. I guess it all depends on whether he knows anything or not. Hang on." Jones pulled out his cell and punched in Portelli's number. "Hello? Mr. Portelli? This is Alfred Jones. We spoke this morning?" Jones started writing on his notepad. "Yes, we would like to speak with you, again. Is this afternoon convenient?" He wrote some more. "All right, then, about six o'clock. Thank you."

Jones wrote some more into his notebook, crossed some lines out and then began typing into his laptop, once again. "He'll meet us, he said, at his house but he's getting a lawyer. I don't blame him. This is going to get ugly before it's over." He looked out the window at the ocean, its waves pounding the breakwater rocks lining the side of the road. "Man, I hate these kinds of cases. Nobody wins and sometimes I feel like the wrong person goes to jail."

"What do you mean?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the road, regardless of the ocean's rough, forceful beauty or her partner's surprising comment.

"Let's say the wife cheats... which is what's happening here. The divorce laws kill the husband even though he's the hurt party and the poor bastard loses half his stuff, probably his house. If he's got kids, it's even worse. I don't want to be in Hancock's shoes, that's for sure."

"So, you're saying it's OK to kill the cheating spouse?"

Jones gave no answer but there was a smile forming on his lips. There was what was legal, what was fair, what was moral and what was just.

It was closer to six-thirty before they returned to Portelli's house. Inside, they were introduced to Marcia Geoffrian, Doug's lawyer.

Doug and Marcia sat on the sofa, Jones and Phillips the two remaining chairs.

Ms. Geoffrian spoke first, handing them her card. "I'm here to make sure that Mr. Portelli's rights aren't trampled upon. Have you any news of his wife's disappearance, yet?"

"That's why we're here again, today," Jones said, handing his own over. "There's been some new information and we need to... well, we need to talk, is all."

"You've found out something? Well?" Doug sat forward on the edge of the sofa, leaning toward the detective.

"How long has your wife been visiting her sister by herself?" Phillips looked closely at Doug.

"I'd say, maybe a year or so, maybe longer, I don't remember... before that, we used to both travel up there but she said she wanted some 'sister time' as she put it... what's that got to do with anything?"

"Well, I'm going to start at the beginning, then... it seems your wife and her sister have been having, if not affairs, then at least long-weekend lovers and have been covering for each other."

"What?!!!" Doug left the sofa, jumping up like the shuttle at liftoff. "What are you saying?"

"Please sit down," Jones said, now standing himself.

Doug paced the room, just as he had done earlier. "She was cheating on me? There's got to be some mistake! Not my Terri..." He collapsed back down onto the couch, his face buried in his hands.

"Your wife used her sister as a cover for her affair or affairs and her sister did the same for hers. Her husband didn't have a clue until we went there today." Jones sat back down.

"Oh, God, I forgot about Peter. How's he handling this?"

"He's left his wife and is planning on divorcing her, I guess. We're more worried about you, right now."

"What do you mean, as a cover?" Doug looked at his wedding picture hanging on the wall.

"When your wife said she was with her sister, she was with her lover and the same for her sister. It worked until this happened," Phillips offered.

"But... you STILL don't know where my wife..." His voice dropped off, the weight of what the detective had said weighed heavily on his heart, as far as Jones and Phillips could see. 

"Detectives, is there ANYTHING else you can say that isn't going to rip my heart out?"




Lemonade



Jones looked at his partner. "I'm sorry, Mr. Portelli, that's all we have right now. You have our cards if anything happens or you hear from your wife. We'll keep in touch." The detectives stood up to leave but Doug remained seated. 

Marcia Geoffrian walked them to the door and waited until they drove away. "What are you going to do?" she asked him. The man looked devastated.

"I honestly don't know." He tried to stand up. "Coffee or something?"

"No, thanks, I've got to get going and write this up. They're not the only ones who can record conversations." Marcia patted her pocket and tried to smile. "Don't worry... hopefully, they'll find your wife soon enough and she'll explain everything... everything. Let me know if you plan on divorcing her and I'll make an appointment for you with John Stevens."

"I... I'll let you know... Jesus Christ, I don't deserve this." He started to cry, ashamed at his emotional breakdown in front of her. "I just don't know... damn it! I guess I will have to, there's no way I can get past this. Thank you for being here."

Marcia left and when her car had driven far enough down the street, Doug turned off the porch light and went to bed.

His life had been turned upside down. He wondered what he would do if his wife suddenly appeared and begged for forgiveness. No chance of that...

**********

Doug took the rest of the week off and stayed in the house. Jones had a plainclothes car keep watch on the house but they saw nothing out of the ordinary happening at Portelli's, not even a pizza delivery although a nursery truck had delivered seven lemon trees to the house across the street. 

Inside, Doug walked around the house, stopping every now and then to look at their wedding picture hanging on the wall. Terri looked so virginal in her long white dress, he so gloriously happy in his powder blue tuxedo. He touched the frame, running his finger down its side. A tear slowly made its way down the side of his cheek and hung on his face for just a moment before falling to the floor.

"Oh, Terri, how could you?" He leaned his head against the wall, his palm flat on the plaster.

He reached up and took the photograph down and smashed it under his heel.

Pierce's phone conversation with the detectives that Tuesday gave Doug the alibi he needed for Saturday and although neither Jones nor Phillips could find another suspect, Portelli no longer was their 'person of interest.'

At first, he called Jones every day, sometimes twice a day but as the weeks went by, his calls slowed to every other day and then finally once a week.

And then, a break finally came across Phillips' desk and she immediately called Jones over. 

Jones walked around his desk to hers. "Whatcha got?"

"Look, I've been trying to match up any missing men who might have disappeared at the same time as that guy's wife and this showed up. Look at this. This guy, Timothy Ricci, disappeared right about the same time as Terri Portelli did. Nobody caught it because he was a college student and he fell through the cracks."

"Let me see that." Jones took the paperwork back to his desk and quickly read through it. "You may have something, here. Where did they find his car?"

"That's just it; it was in his space the whole time. It was his landlord, wondering where the rent was. He went into the apartment and found quite a smell."

"Dead body?" he asked.

"No, rotten food and just plain mustiness and a couple of nickel bags... he called the police but nobody put two and two." She was excited. It was the first lead in a very frustrating case.

"What's the connection? He lives in Santa Monica."

"They found a couple of photographs and it rang a bell with somebody over there, an officer named, don't laugh, Clarence Peabody, and he called us and here's the paperwork. Want to take a ride?"

"You bet. Let me get my coat."

A quick canvas around the complex quickly proved that Terri Portelli was a frequent visitor at Timothy Ricci's apartment. Jones started to wonder if the woman ever spent any time at home with her husband.

"She was really sticking it to that poor bastard of a husband. How much are we going to tell him?" Phillips looked at her partner, waiting for a response.

"The least we can, I think," Jones said. "He's already been screwed over enough. It still doesn't answer the question as to where the two of them are, though. Do you think they ran away together?"

Phillips shook her head. "Nah, the money's still in the bank and she was getting hers steady anyways. Why take off? Whatever happened, happened to the two of them in her car. They're both dead, that I'm sure of it."

"Susan, I don't think we're going to be able to figure this thing out. The thing's gone cold."

"Don't give up. We just found out about this guy, didn't we? Something else will turn up, just you wait and see. We just need to alert the media and get this guy's picture out there." All they had, though, were some pictures of the missing couple and a driver's license photo.

Jones pulled out his cell. "Mr. Portelli, this is Detective Jones. We've come up with some new information regarding your wife's disappearance."

"You're kidding. Have you found her, is she all right?"

"No sir, I said we had some new information, not that we've found her. We've found the man she... the man..."

"She'd been sleeping with. OK, Detective, you can say it. I've come to accept my wife was unfaithful. You're not going to find her, are you? She's run away with this guy?"

"No, sir, we think they're both dead. He was a college student. He had no money to run away and both cars have been accounted for. If they had taken a plane somewhere, we'd have found that out, already. We think there were drugs involved."

"A college student? Shit, I'm not that old, I'm only thirty-four. What'd she need a college student for? Ah, never mind. I'm sorry, Detective, but this has opened old wounds again. I thought I could live with the fact that she cheated on me but..."

"He hung up on me," Jones said, sheepishly. "I should have expected something like that. Well, let's get Gonzales to get these pictures on the air."

Doug watched the news that night, seeing the man who had taken the wife he had worshipped from him. Realistically, he knew his wife was to blame for everything that had happened and had happened to her but it still hurt as if he had done something wrong. 

Sitting next to him was his brother, Peter. "Well, I guess that's that. If everybody didn't know it before, they sure as hell know it now. Sorry, man... at least I didn't have my whoring wife laid out on TV." He took another drink of beer, emptying the can.

"Thanks," Doug said. "Another beer?"

"Nah, three's enough. You get the check for the car, yet?"

"Yeah, it came last week. It took them long enough, considering the police report and all. Damn insurance companies. Fucking car was almost brand new."

"I'm going to bed." Peter got up, unbuttoned his shirt and headed to the guest room.

"I'll see you in the morning, then," said Doug, turning back to the television. He changed the channel just in time to see his wife's and her lover's picture again. He turned off the set and headed to bed, himself, cursing the woman he had pledged his love to just a few years earlier.

The whole God damned city now knew what she had done to him.

**********

Susan looked up as Al lowered his mouth to hers. She wanted to kiss him, to feel the sensual pleasure of his mouth, his hands, his hard, powerful body. She realized she was letting her common sense leave her mind as quickly as she accepted his touch. Sleeping with your partner was severely frowned upon by the LAPD.

Slowly, he brushed his mouth against hers, lightly, lovingly, from one corner to the other, the contact a mere whisper of the wet heat growing between her legs.

Susan closed her eyes and though she'd die from pleasure. Sensations washed through her in a heated rush, leaving her trembling as it washed through like the waves on the beach. She was hot and wanting more. She opened her eyes, looking at him. He kissed her again, his look an unmistakable message. 

Susan parted her lips, wanting whatever he would give her. She threw all caution and the hard lessons of life to the wind.

She came willingly into her partner's arms, pressing her cheek against the curve of his neck, her arms around his shoulders. "I'm not going anywhere," Al said. "Susan, I want you so much," he sighed against her ear.

Shutting her eyes, she smelled his scent. He brushed his mouth along her jaw, then trailed hot, moist kisses down the side of her throat. She dug her fingernails into his back, enjoying the sheer joy his body gave her.

She met him in an openmouthed kiss that tasted of danger and heat and freedom and love. He stared. He lowered his mouth to her breast. With a prayerful love, he kissed on breast, and then the other until she ached for him in a way she never ached before.

Susan's fingers touched Al there and he moaned under his breath. One kiss led to another, deeper, hotter, wilder. His hand moved down the curve of her hip to the velvet smoothness between her thighs... into her most intimate heat.

His fingers played lightly, there as his tongue danced in her mouth. Pleasure flooded through her, bringing her blood to a boil. She pushed against him, her hip brushing against his hardness.

She dragged her mouth away from his to cry out, but suddenly his fingers ceased their teasing and came to rest against the opening she waited for him to enter. He deepened his touch and intense pleasure exploded within her like a fiery furnace on high and then he plunged into her again and again until her very soul merged with his in a scream loud enough to wake the dead.

Susan lay in bed, her hands cradling her head as she stared at the dimly lit bedroom ceiling. Did Al already puzzle it out and keep it to himself? That possibility caused her to wonder if he had made his own vigilante justice choice before. Should she cautiously re-open cold cases on her own time? 

She looked over at her lover, lying on his side, lightly snoring. She had already broken enough rules in the last week to end her career, what was one more?

She reached out her left hand and touched him, there. Even flaccid, it amazed her just how it worked. His ability to bring her ecstasy in bed as he made love to her was beyond belief.

**********

The next evening, there was a strong banging knock on the door and as Doug answered, Mrs. Kittrell walked in carrying a large covered pan, and a pitcher of lemonade. "Good evening, Doug. How are you today?"

"About as well as can be expected, I guess, ma'am. My, that smells good. What have you brought me?" He took the pitcher and followed her into the kitchen.

"Thank you," she said. "How many times have I told you to call me Chantelle, darlin'?" Even though Doug had considered her the old lady that lived across the street, she was only in her early forties and had taken a shine to him. "I brought you some lasagna, tonight. I hope you like Italian."

"I... I like everything you've done, Mrs... Chantelle. You're a fantastic cook."

"Oh, Doug, you're just hungry. That's your stomach talking."

"I was wondering," he started, "if you'd like to go, maybe, to dinner with me tomorrow or the next day? Sort of a thank you... that is, if you're interested."

"Why, Doug, tomorrow would be just fine. Say, seven o'clock?"

"Yes, ma'am, uh, Chantelle, that would be fine. Would you like to stay for dinner with me?" Doug looked at the woman in a different light. She was only a few years older than he and he had started noticing how well she had taken care of herself. Besides, his miserable wife was gone 

Chantelle kept the conversation light, still hearing the disappointment in Doug's voice as they talked about everything except his missing wife. Tomorrow night, she determined, she would have a nice evening with him, with dinner at a nice restaurant and dessert in her bedroom. She smiled at him, wondering if he knew what she had planned for him.

That night, when she walked home, she went to her backyard and looked at her little citrus grove. Digging the hole deep enough for the first tree had been the problem but after that, everything went so much easier. Doug had been so blind and just needed some help from a guardian angel. 

When life gives you lemons, she giggled, make lemonade.



Lemonade



The house was broken. As a house - that is as something to keep the elements out and keep you safe - it didn't work. He stood on the broken porch in the shade of the broken roof and felt the summer heat desiccate and wither everything in the yard behind him.

The house would take a lot of work but he had time and it felt good to have a project. But before the house came the garden, if you could call it a garden. Where it wasn't parched dirt and rocks it was waist high grass - coarse and tough as anything. And everywhere junk: broken wood, parts of unidentifiable machines.

Through the doorway the house looked blessedly cool and dark. It also looked like it had been gutted by both fire and flood at the same time. No wonder his uncle had done nothing to it in twenty years and had died before he'd gotten round to it.

Apparently Hal had spent his first five years in the house. He'd expected a few memories to be shaken loose when he first came back to take a look at the property he'd inherited, but nothing. Even so he didn't just want to sell it and for some reason he didn't want to tear it up and start again.

But the house was a lot of work. Start with just clearing the yard: that was the plan. He turned, and even in the shade, even that little movement made fresh beads of sweat start their journey down his brow.

The long yellow car pulling up on the other side of the low, wire fence seemed to be arriving perfectly on cue. He waved at the driver as she stepped out onto the road and held up her hand to keep the sun from her eyes. She was the only person in the car he noted with disappointment.

"Where's Johnny?" he called by way of greeting.

"He said he forgot. He said he had another thing."

"Yeah," Johnny had taken a look at the air trembling over the blacktop beneath his window and found another thing he had to be doing. Probably in an air-conditioned bar. He didn't blame him. "You could've called me," he said as she rounded the front of the car and pulled on the passenger door. "You were only giving him a ride." The car was a rust-trimmed classic, but you have to take classics like that on their own terms. The door didn't open.

"I came to help," she said over her shoulder and laughed.

He looked at her, her yellow sundress blurring against the bleached yellow of her car, her slender arms and legs bare and already tanned from the summer. Sandals. No hat.

"You came to help?" He moved his straw hat, settled it on his head. "I don't mean to be rude, but... this is gonna be hard work Luce."

The muscles of her arms tensed for a moment as she really put her strength into opening the recalcitrant door. She heaved, grunted and it popped open. "I ain't helping with this fucking wasteland," she informed him, again holding her hand up to shade her eyes in a lazy, thoughtless movement. She turned and bent and Con just let himself watch the thin dress slip up over her ass a little. He wondered if she was sweating as much as he was - her dress looked like it might be clinging in a few places. She had to be sweating. She wouldn't be human otherwise.

She came up holding a glass pitcher and a thermos by their handles in one hand. In the other hand was a large plastic bag, which shone and glittered - crystal and white.

"I made lemonade," she raised the flask and the pitcher. "I brought a pitcher and some glasses. And I got ice at the store." She smiled, her eyes practically closed against the blinding, late morning sun. "Tell me that's not helping."

- - -

She had brought an old folding chair too, with a tear through the fabric at the back that made it look like it was going to give way at any moment. She set herself up on the porch, exactly where he had stood watching her arrive and she sat with her legs crossed, watching him.

He bent his back in the heat and worked. The thin, old shirt he'd picked was plastered to him in no time, and he felt a little like bacon - like meat on a grill. He waded into the sharp, dry grass and tried to clear out the engine parts and discarded furniture that was hidden like the world's worst Easter egg hunt. When he'd cleaned an area enough he fired up the noisy petrol driven slicing thing that he'd rented and tore through the grass until you could see the ground.

He worked and he sweated, and every now and then she would call to him, "Have some lemonade." Or he would feel his head start to buzz and knew he needed to get out of the heat for a while.

The sun moved over the house and the shade from the broken porch roof stretched a little further so he could sit on the low, broken steps and try not to down the cool, beautiful lemonade in one big gulp. She sat behind him in her chair and they talked about everything: the hot, hot city that they'd both only moved to (or moved back to) in the last few years, people they knew, the work where they'd met.

And he'd liked her since he met her, but whatever there was between them had just never had a chance to become something else. There were always other things in the way, small things that made it seem like something that wouldn't happen.

Now she was behind him in that thin, yellow dress, legs crossed and bouncing one foot idly in the air just at the corner of his vision. When he talked to her he didn't turn to look at her, he just looked sideways at her small foot and the cheap sandal that was dangling from it, dancing with her movements. He looked at her orange nail varnish and as the cool, precious liquid flowed down his throat he wanted to turn and let his eyes roam up the rest of her legs.

"Who taught you how to make this stuff," he held the tumbler of lemonade up to look at the cloudy, fresh juice, then gave into the temptation and rolled the glass across his forehead.

"My grandma told me. On her death bed."

"Shut up."

"I got the recipe off the internet," she laughed, "but it's good right? It's like the third lot I've made this summer. I keep going to the store and buying all these lemons. It ain't odd, I don't think, but they keep looking at me so weird."

He went back to work. He found a twisted, rusted child's tricycle and tried to remember if he had ridden a tricycle when he was a toddler. He recalled the few photos he had seen of the time and nothing came to mind. He found three or four grills that he was sure were parts of refrigerators - but no actual refrigerators.

He cut the next area down and went back for more lemonade. She grinned as he came towards her and told him that she'd always wanted a porch to sit out on in the summer, and asked if she could come over and pretend it was her house when he'd finished with it.

"Of course, but I'd say we'll both be old, old people by the time that happens."

"You're doing good! You look like you'll have the place at least cleared today."

"Yeah, and then there's the house. I don't even know if it's, y'know, structurally ok yet." He stopped at the steps and looked at the way her sun-bleached hair - dirty blonde, long and tangled - was held back by a thin black hair band. He looked at her shoulders. He didn't look at her bare legs and how high up them her short dress was lying when she sat like that.

"Oh. Oh yeah." She looked back over her shoulder at the building. He couldn't stop his eyes flicking down just for a moment. Just a split second of her long legs rubbing against each other as she turned. Just the faintest shine of perspiration on them. "Can I look around?"

"Ah, sure. Be careful though, there are holes and nails and broken wood everywhere."

"Am I gonna fall through the floor?"

"Don't think so," he said and grinned.

- - -

"Hey. Lemonade time?"

He looked up, smiling. She was standing, framed in the dark open doorway with the almost-empty pitcher in one hand and his glass in the other. He'd realised already that this was too much. He could finish the yard in a day by himself, but he'd be killing himself to do it. Johnny being there would've helped.

He dropped the rake he'd been using to gather up the cut stalks of grass and weeds and started up towards her. Halfway there she came down the steps of the porch towards him, and with the same careless, graceless poise with which she did everything, she sat on the step. She sat on the low step, her knees bent and the hem of her dress bunched up in her lap.

She turned her legs at least a little demurely, but it didn't help. And he couldn't stop his eyes this time. She looked to the pitcher of lemonade, and he let his eyes take in the view of her tan thighs, all the way up where they should've been covered by her flimsy dress. He couldn't bring himself to watch her pouring out the last of the lemonade for him because the pure white of her panties against her dark, shimmering flesh had him completely mesmerised.

She shifted, tucking her legs together and turning properly to the side. And when he looked up to her face, he knew that she'd caught him looking. She offered him the half-full glass with a twist of the mouth that he couldn't quite read. Annoyance? Amusement? Something else? He looked down on her dumbly and brought the glass to his lips.

"You look beat," she said and leaned back. She arched her back, putting her hands back to prop herself up, and as she closed her eyes lazily he really noticed how that thin yellow dress really was sticking to her as much as his shirt was. They were in the shade, but he could see she was sweating and, hot as his blood already was from the sun, it got a couple of degrees hotter still. "Fuck, it is soooo hot."

"I'm thinking," he swallowed, but hadn't been drinking anything, "of giving it up for the day."

"I think," she said in a low, sleepy way, "that would be a good idea." She let her head hang back and the long, tangled strands of her hair almost brushed the ancient boards of the porch. Suddenly she snapped her head up and looked right at him. He snapped his eyes up from her small breasts, and the way her dress clung to them. "Hey, I've got an idea. I found something."

"Yeah?" his head was buzzing, but he didn't know if it was the heat of the sun now. He brought the last sip of lemonade to his lips.

"Yeah, let's go inside."

He finished the lemonade, swallowed again, and followed the curve of her - her dress perfectly pasted to the shape her hips made as they flared out slightly from her slender waist. He followed her into the dark house.

- - -

"Take that shirt off." She led him to what was probably the living room, though none of the rooms now resembled any rooms that he knew. "The jeans too. I'll be back in a second."

"What?!" He smiled, tired and hot and off-guard. Now he'd been in the shade for a few minutes he felt... sticky. Everything sticking to everything else. More and more she looked too good to be true. Like he was a starving cartoon character, she almost started to look like one of those cool heavenly glasses of lemonade she'd been giving him. "What are we doing?"

"A little cleaning." Then she was gone. He heard some sounds in the back yard, then something that sounded like running water. It stopped, then ran, then stopped again. He didn't strip, he just stood there aching.

She came back with a bucket sloshing with water.

"I found a faucet out back that still works. And a bucket without a hole." It was an ancient, battered tin thing, but it was holding the water well enough. She frowned, "You didn't take your clothes off."

"What?" Exhausted he smiled at her but his brain was still several blocks behind.

"Shirt goes on the floor, jeans go on the floor, water goes on Con. Con feels better. Pretty simple." The windows were boarded up but slices of light slashed through the gaps and there was a goddamned hole in the roof. It was shady, and darker than outside, but still bright. "Just do it, you idiot."

He couldn't think of a good reason why not to, so he did. He unbuttoned his shirt halfway and then pulled it over his head with a groan of relief. He hooked it over the end of a curtain rod that didn't look filthy, and glanced across at her. She wasn't pretending to do anything but watch him strip. The bucket must've been heavy, she'd put it down.

Then his jeans. He popped the buttons of the fly and pushed them down off his lean hips with another sigh of relief. She was right, this was exactly what he needed to do. And now, cooled by the shade and the layer he'd taken off, his brain was catching up with what was going on.

His jeans went over the end of the curtain rod too, and his socks quickly followed leaving him standing there in front of her in just his fitted blue boxers. He turned to face her, caught halfway between confidence and reticence. She crossed her arms and moved as if to lean against the doorframe but she remembered the filthy state of the whole building and thought better of it. She didn't know what to do with her hands, and clasped them behind her neck.

Her standing like that, of course he was going to look down at those small perky breasts that were being pushed out at him. Yes, it was cooler inside, but a fresh trickle of sweat started to make its way down his back. His heart sped, and energy flowed from his aching back and tired arms to his loins.

"You could take those off too if you wanted," she said, her voice so carefully weightless that the hidden weight was obvious. The weight increase in his underwear was becoming a little more obvious to him every moment too. Not to her, yet.

"Is that necessary for having a bucket of water dumped over you?"

"Maybe not." Her hands came down and she stepped towards him, her sandals crunching on the dirt and dust and grit of the old floorboards. He wiped his brow uselessly with the back of one big hand. It wasn't until she was within reach that he realised she'd left the bucket at the door.

They both reached out at exactly, perfectly, the same time. He leaned towards her and put his hand gently to the side of her face. One callused thumb along her jaw, four fingers slipping into her straw-blonde hair. And as their lips met her hands came across and found his cock, half hard in those tight boxers.

Her mouth opened to him as he kissed her, as his hand pulled her face to his, but it didn't yield to him. She kissed him back with just as much force, her lips hot but hard, her tongue fighting his between fast, gasped breaths. He was tired and aching but all she had been doing all day was watching him bend and stretch and work and sweat. He guessed probably she was the more frustrated of them.

Her fingers told much the same story. She was as forward with him here as he knew her to be with all things. As he kissed her she first explored the shape of him behind the fabric, then quickly grasped him and encouraged him to grow. He wanted to wrap his other arm around her and crush her to him, but he gave her room.

He used his other hand to pull down the shoulder strap of her flimsy dress. He tried to do it carefully, gracefully, but his weary fingers couldn't grasp the fine strap so he just thumbed it down off her shoulder, then roughly slipped his fingers into her dress itself and yanked it down.

Her small upturned breast bore the same freckles as her face, and just seeing it, then touching it, teasing the small dark nipple with his thick thumb, he felt his erection quicken. He was hard, straining against the prison of his boxers. She held him with strong fingers and stroked him through them; hand over hand, up and up and up.

She murmured something against his lips and they separated properly for the first time.

"We're going to get hotter and dirtier if we do this," she said in a voice that was barely beyond a breath, or a purr.

"You might," he cupped her exposed breast, "I don't think I could get any dirtier."

"We'll see," she grinned.

She pulled his underwear down under his solid, jutting prick with the same mix of clumsiness and effortlessness with which she had prepared the lemonade. Fuck, it was sexy. She was sexy; the way she moved, her shape, and above all the way she was handling his cock now.

The waistband pressed under his balls, and his member seemed to throb and pulse in her hands. He knew he wasn't that long, but he was thick, and she had both hands on him, pulling forward and back on his shaft as she looked down. Her lips pursed and twisted into that same half smile he hadn't been able to judge before. Must be a good thing.

This time he was able to pick the strap of the dress off her other shoulder, as he pulled down her dress on the other side and left her topless. Her small, hard nipples bobbed a little as she stroked and squeezed his cock and he wanted to lean in to suck on them, he wanted to gently bite those little tits, but she had him, she was in control.

He groaned, the sound coming from way down in his chest as she kept stroking him with one hand. The other one came back towards her, to caress the head of him. She passed her palm over the hard, purple crown and smeared the slick pre-cum back down his shaft. Then she started again, hand over hand, first only stroking him towards her, then only stroking away.

This time he growled.

Harder than he'd been for who knew how long, he grinned and took her slender wrists in his hands, stopping her as little flashbulbs of pleasure started to glow in his head. She grinned up at him wickedly.

"You wanna stop?" Her dress was down off her shoulders, her breasts bared to the room. Her slim, nothing hips certainly weren't holding it up, it was just pasted to her with sweat.

"Not until we're done," he shot back. He looked to make sure nothing would lacerate his knees then he knelt. She crossed her hands over her stomach then touched her fingertips to the sides of her breasts as he put the flat of his hand on her - pressed against her mound - and pushed the dress up.

It had been far too short a dress, and it was far too easy for him to expose the brilliant white panties he'd caught a glimpse of before. He smelled old, burnt wood, sweat and earth, but he saw this perfect sight - her simple white underwear against her tanned skin. He pushed her dress up and she made to hold it, but it bunched and stuck by itself, just as his fingers stuck when he touched her thighs.

He moved closer and she shuffled her feet apart just a little so he could move two fingers up, between her thighs and stroke them slowly across the white fabric that protected her sex. He touched it and the spell was broken, no longer white, pristine, perfect; now dirtied by his sweat and his touch. He stroked softly and kissed her thighs, tasted the salt off her skin. She breathed above him and moved her feet apart again.

Her first soft moan came with the first sense of moistness in his fingertips. He stopped the slow, simple movement, the rocking of his digits under her, and pressed against her more firmly, more deliberately. Again she sighed, louder, almost complaining but not quite.

He hooked the fingers of his free hand into the waistband on her hip, but suddenly thought again. Instead he was reaching up, between her slender thighs and bending his fingers inside the crotch of her panties (the touch of her wet sex registered for a second). He yanked it aside roughly.

She said something, but he didn't hear it, and he barely even gave himself time to enjoy the flushed pink lips of her pussy before his blood was pounding in his ears and he was pressing his face up, putting his lips to hers, dragging his tongue hungrily across her sex.

He tasted sweat and sex and his prick, still exposed, still sensitive with his underwear digging in behind it, told him he wanted more. He held her thighs and split her open and when she gasped and moaned her voice was surprisingly low and throaty. Like everything about her it was without pretence but sexy as hell.

The first lips he'd kissed had kissed him back just as hard, but these soft, sweet lips down here, they just yielded to his tongue. Her juices trickled into his mouth as he lapped at her, and she tasted like nothing but sunshine and fucking. Nothing like the tall, cool lemonade he'd pictured before, of course.




Lemonade



He delved up into her, then drew his tongue back and traced the shape of her again. Then he licked up with just the tip of his tongue, and he touched and felt until he found the pert nub of her clit. She shuddered as he applied pressure, and as he started teasing it in earnest he felt her legs shift and shake either side of him.

Her thighs against his unshaven face felt smooth as heaven, but hot as hell, and her pussy against his lips and his tongue was both divine nectar giving him strength and a temptation sent from the devil. He licked at her lips again, split them again, drove his fat tongue inside again, then returned to her clit. And this time as he sucked on her and lashed at her a rigid index finger came up and slipped in where his tongue had just been. She was wet, but she was still so tight and she squeezed him.

"Motherfucker!" The explosion of breath and profanity made him laugh into her sex, and pull back gasping.

"Sorry, was that...?"

"No just... Jesus, what'd you stop for?" His tongue and his jaw did ache a little but he didn't have a good answer, so he went back to work and he teased and rubbed and encouraged her pussy to let his finger in deeper and deeper. "I ain't going to be able to stand up like this... fuck... too much longer."

He mmmm'd into her, his tongue drawing circles around her button, before he licked at it again and made her yelp. "I can't feel much of my legs anymore," she added, her voice cracking a little this time.

Con pulled his finger out and she sighed. She had her hands on her thighs and she was bending over him, hunching her back as he savoured the sweet, hot sex that he hadn't believed he'd ever see. He stroked at her cleft again softly - then slipped two thick fingers up inside her firmly.

"Ahn!" Her knees sagged this time and she spat a few curses, but her body wasn't resisting him. His two digits slipped into the tight sheath of her cunt like eagerly welcomed guests. He teased her clit softly as her finger-fucked her and drew barking gasps of pleasure from her lips.

"Okayokayokay," she panted, "You've made your..." But it was too much fun stopping her from speaking and he sucked the soft folds of her pussy into his mouth. "Oh shit! Hhnnnh!" He felt the muscles of her thigh tense solid beneath his other hand.

Then she clouted him in the side of the head.

It wasn't a playful thing either. She balled up her fist and knocked him solidly in the temple. He flinched at the impact, and he rocked back, feeling the dirt crunch beneath his knees. He slipped his fingers out of her sopping sex too. It had stung, but he hardly held a grudge - he'd been pushing her.

"'Kay," she panted, straightening her legs, then bending over with her hands on her knees. "You can eat pussy. Point taken." He rubbed his head where she'd hit him and grinned. "But I'm serious, I can't stand up like that anymore. And I can't see anywhere I'd be happy lying down in here, so..."

"So what?"

"So get that thing hard again." She pointed at his cock, still jutting up from between his thighs but starting to flag a little without her attention. He grinned even wider, standing - and stroking as he did so. They both pulled their disarrayed underwear down and off at the same time, and for the first time as she kept her dress up he saw the small, sandy bush above her sex.

Their underwear went on the same curtain rod the rest of his clothes did.

Christ, he was tired. But in a way it helped. He wasn't thinking any of this through but really, he didn't need to. He didn't need to analyse a damn thing, she wanted him and he wanted her, and as she gently took his hand off his desperate cock this all felt nothing but right.

She pulled on his soft skin, moved her hands back and forth a few times squeezing even more creamy pre-cum from the tip of his prick - then she tugged more firmly. And tugged again. And led him by his cock to the cleanest looking wall.

This wall was relatively free of holes and mostly papered with some pattern that might once have been diamonds. Her sweat-soaked dress was a bunched yellow belt at her waist as she leaned back against it and pulled him by his cock and his shoulder. They kissed, and he knew she was tasting herself on his lips. His dick jumped in her hand.

And there was no need for any more cursing or teasing then. She let go of him and lifted her right leg up, high against his side, supporting her self on one leg and with her hand around his neck. He held her raised leg with one hand, then he squatted a little to bring himself to the right angle, the right level and then brought his own throbbing, gleaming sex to hers.

"Thick," she whispered, and he didn't have an answer to that especially since she was reaching down with her free hand to guide his piece, to manipulate it and trace it up and down the lips of her pussy again and again. He felt her wetness smearing against him, and leaned up impatiently. She held him back. "Thick," she whispered again, "go slowly."

He grunted a response and then her grip loosened and he slipped up and into her. Again she yielded, and again she was tighter than he'd expected. He took it slowly, very slowly and just ground his dick, angling it against her and into her as she relaxed. Little by little his fat cock eased into her further and further. She gasped and sighed, and she put her brow to his shoulder.

Then suddenly he was inside her, all inside her, all swallowed up by her divine opening. He pulled back and thrust smoothly in again - and again.

Lucy's head fell back as he started moving his hips, driving into her with slow, firm thrusts and he found himself looking at her face as it moved, totally free of barriers and defences. Her brow furrowed in concern as he withdrew, then raised as he thrust back into her. She bit her lips, she mouthed words that he couldn't make out, she gave little gasping coughing moans as he started going faster.

"Mn, yeah. Fuck, you earned this," she murmured as he slowed, wanting to enjoy this for as long as possible.

"I thought the lemonade was my reward." He didn't stop moving, he couldn't. Her sweet, hot hole was just too heavenly not to fuck.

"I ran out of lemonade, so you get this instead." She kissed him.

"I wish you'd run out of lemonade sooner," he said then grunted as inside of her she squeezed him. He felt her juices on the base of his shaft, on his balls and his thighs. She was getting so very wet.

And she was making herself wetter. Her own hand slipped awkwardly between their bodies and he knew exactly what her slim fingers were flickering back and forth over from the expletives that started dropping from her mouth.

"Shit, that's a nice cock. That's a nice fucking cock." She grinned, eyes closed, then suddenly her breathing sped sharply. "Oh, oh fuck, fuck just... perfect... mmnh!"

It took his fuzzy mind a moment to realise that he'd found the perfect angle to fuck her from, but it didn't take him anything to just keep his hips working in just that way. Her lips became a tight line and her moans, trapped behind them, a wordless hum as his broad shaft split her open again and again, getting faster in spite of his attempts to retain control.

"Mmmnnah! Oh jesus shit I'm gonna cum if you... if you keep that... doing that." And so he did, feeling her wetness on him, feeling those little bulbs starting to light up in his own mind, feeling his balls tense and tighten.

"Haaahh!" She hadn't been able to move really, being propped against the wall like that, but somehow as she came she managed to do something with her hips that created extra friction between them. He would've cum for sure were it not for the sharp pain of her nails digging into the back of his neck. "Jesus shit!"

She was radiant. Her small breasts shook as she heaved breaths into her shaking lungs and jerkily humped back at his still-humping member. Her black hair band was still in place but strands had somehow freed themselves and her sandy hair was sticking up and out in places. He looked down and took her all in, this beautiful, fragile, strong girl caught in the throes of orgasm.

"Y-you didn't cum yet?" She asked shakily as her climax passed and she put her cum-slick fingers to his chest to slow him down.

"Probably would've if you hadn't clawed my neck just then," he smiled. She didn't apologise, just laughed. He eased his cock, clamouring for release out of her and loved the soft sigh she gave as he did so. Fuck she was wet - her juices smeared all over her thighs, all over his cock and balls. He took her gently by the shoulders and lifted her away from the wall a little. "This ok?"

She looked confused, "What?"

"This. Turn around and bend over." She laughed again in understanding.

"My legs are fucking hurting, but I guess you did work very hard out there." She turned around for him, put her hands against the old wallpaper and bent over. She spread her legs and glanced back with that half-smile. "C'mon and fuck me, Con."

He grabbed a hold of that little ass as she wiggled it, noting the sharp tan-lines of a bikini or swimsuit on her cheeks as he did so. He pressed his slick, wet prick against the crack of her rump for a moment, smearing her own cum on her ass without thinking. Then he took it in his hand and slid the bulging head down, bumping it over her dark little anus and lining it up with her luscious pussy once more.

Foreplay was irrelevant now and he slipped into her so, so easily. She sighed in appreciation but he doubted, as her fingers splayed out and stretched against the faded wall, that she'd cum again. And besides now that he was back inside her, without her hands on him providing some kind of soothing control, he didn't think he could hold back.

He eased it in and back a couple of times, then with his third thrust he slapped his thighs against her firm ass and shook her slender frame with a hard, fast fuck. He grabbed her hips and pulled her back onto him with the next thrust, and then slowly he got faster.

"Too much?"

"Mnnn, no. Do me like this now, do me hard."

Which was exactly what he'd been planning to do, and suddenly he was losing himself in her. He felt her cunt on every millimetre of his cock as he buried it in her, and he felt it pull hungrily on him as he jerked it back. He saw the little pyramids of her tits hanging down and jiggling, and her fingers spreading and stretching trying to support her on the old flat wall as best they good. He heard her now too, her sex slurping and gushing around him as he thrust into her again and again.

"Fuck, I can't take this much... longer." He bit down hard on his lip. It didn't take his mind off that divine pussy or the heavy load churning in his sack at all.

"You don't have to," she said in gasps that were broken and disjointed from the impact of his body against hers. "You can cum, cum in me."

God, those words. All he needed. Suddenly he was grabbing her by the hips - too tight - and pulling her back onto him hard and his thick seed wash rushing up his shaft and then he was cumming, his prick twitching and jumping uncontrollably inside her as she took his load. He was tired, his mind nothing but fields of sensation and colour but he was happy, so happy that she'd come to help.

"Ho boy!" She was panting, already starting to straighten up though.

"I think that was a lot..."

"Yeeeah! It sure feels like a lot!" She touched her sex with a smile as he eased out of her.

"Well, sorry if that was kinda hard at the end."

"Don't worry it was... it was all kinda great." She turned to face him with a smile. "Perfect end to a hard day's work, right?"

"Very glad Johnny didn't show," he nodded.

"Mm, me too." Still standing in the burnt, blackened room she stepped to him and leaned against his chest. "My legs really are fucking hurting though," she whispered.

"Ha, want to go somewhere with air-conditioning and alcohol?"

"Yeah I'm gonna need a bathroom sometime soon too," that half-smile, this time a little extra embarrassment as she touched her sensitive pussy-lips again. "You ain't coming out yet though."

"I like you, Lucy." He tossed her panties to her and she awkwardly slid them back up her legs.

"I like you too Connor." There was no half-smile this time. Just a perfect full one. He was glad he'd moved back here. He turned to reach for his own underwear. "Hey, Con!"

He turned, and the bucketful of cold, cold water hit him full in the face.



Lemonade and Pussy



"Oh fuck," I cried. My index and middle fingers plunged in and out of my pussy as my thumb worked my clit. My hips bucked. I could feel my orgasm building. I thrust my fingers, deeper into my sopping cunt. I moaned with pleasure. Finally the dam burst, my body became rigid and my cum soaked my fingers. I stood there in the shower for a minute, my back leaning against the wall for support, while the water cascaded over my body, rubbing my pussy as I came down from the orgasm. 

I was still horny, but feeling much better after cumming. What I really wanted was some cock, but my husband, Kevin, was traveling on business and would not be back for several more days. I stepped out of the shower, and toweled off, wrapping my long red hair in the towel and piling it all atop my head. It was already mid-morning on a Saturday, and forecast to be another beautiful summer day. I had no particular plans for the day, and decided to spend a couple hours down by the pool in the sun.

Kevin and I lived in a moderately priced housing development. The houses were close with out being on top of each other, offering most of them a reasonable amount of privacy. We had close to two acres of land, on the outside of a bend in the street, so that our property expanded away from the road. This was very nice as it gave us quite a lot of privacy in our backyard, which we certainly took advantage of.

I pulled a pair of skimpy bikini bottoms from the drawer and pulled them up my long tan legs. The small piece of fabric covered my pussy, while only a thin string went between my ass cheeks. The only reason I put them on at all was that Kevin thought that tan lines were sexy. I preferred to be more uniform in color, so that I was not limited in what cloths I could ware. So this skimpy bikini was my concession to his fetish.

My C-cup boobs jiggled and swayed as I made my way downstairs and out to the pool side. I spread a towel out on one of the lounge chairs and lay out in the sun. It was a perfectly beautiful day for sunning. The sun was already high in the sky and the temperature was perfect. The only blemish on the morning was the banging from the contractors working on the house next door. We had had rain for most of the past week, making it impossible for them to work, so now they were working on the weekend. I picked up the book I was reading from a nearby table and settled in for an enjoyable morning in the sun. As I got into the story the sounds of construction faded into the background.

I heard more banging, but this time it seemed much closer. I'm not quite sure how much time had passed though it felt like only minutes. I looked from behind my book to see Mae, my next door neighbor from the other side knocking on my back door.

"Mae," I called. "I'm down here by the pool."

She turned and waved, and started to make here way to the pool from the back of the house. Mae is half Chinese and half Cherokee, and completely gorgeous. She is petite, only 5'-1" with a lithe frame and a beautiful set of B-cup boobs that fit her frame to perfection, topped with a wonderful mop of short dark hair. Today she was dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a tight fitting tank-top, though I could see that she had her bikini on under it, as the strings peeked out around her waist. The whole effect was very sexy, and reminded me how horny I was. I felt my pussy moisten as she came through the gate to the pool.

"Hey, Lisa," she called, and she walked over to where I sat. "I wanted to know if you wanted to lay out today. It's such a perfect day for sunning. But I guess I know the answer."

"So pull up a chair," I invited. I put my book down and watched as Mae came toward me.

"Well I guess the first thing that I need to do is loose some of this clothing. You look much more comfortable." Mae pulled her tank top over her head, and dropped it on a nearby chair. Kicking off her sandals, she stepped out of here shorts, revealing the bikini beneath. It was made with a mesh fabric making it almost transparent. I could easily see the lines of Mae's pussy beneath her bathing suite with the cute tuft of hair that she kept atop her mound. My mouth watered. Mae's most incredible feature was her nipples. She had the longest nipples I have ever seen. They are easily an inch long when erect, and I'm pretty sure that they are always erect. That is the only way that I've ever seen them. With the mesh material of her bikini, her amazing nipples actually penetrated the fabric, sticking straight out through her top. This did not last long however, as her bikini top quickly joined the growing pile of her cloths beside her.

My eyes roamed her practically naked body. My pussy was starting to itch. Mae had lived next door to us for a couple years now. We had hit it off almost immediately, and it wasn't long until I discovered that she was a slutty minx. Kevin and I have a very open marriage; the only rule is that we tell each other everything. Often his return from a business trip is an incredible time as we will both have stories to share. We have both spent many nights with Mae. Mostly together, though we have both spent time with her individually as well.

"Well isn't that better," she announced. "Now I'm ready for sunning." She looked to me like she was ready for something else as well. Was or my imagination or was there a bit of a sheen to her pussy. Mae paraded in front of me, making a show of waggling her ass. I knew that she was teasing me; I loved the look of her ass, as she well knew. Mae draped herself on the lounge chair beside me, her face and nipples pointed toward the sun. "Hmm," she sighed, "This is the life."

Well two could play at this game. "I think I need to cool off," I declared. "I'm going to take a dip." I rose from the lounge chair I had occupied, and sauntered toward the pool edge. I made sure to accentuate the sway of my ass. From where Mae sat I would look naked. Our patio warped the deep end of the pool, allowing me to the ability to dive, with out having to walk to the far end. I bent into a crouch, pushing my ass in Mae's direction, and dove into the pool. The water, warmed by the sun, felt wonderful as it caressed every inch of my body. I swam to the far end, turned and came back. I pulled myself out of the water so that my breasts were fully visible and resting on my arms, so that they were slightly pushed up. "Mae the water is great," I called to her, making sure that I had her attention.

Her head rocked forward slightly as she took a better look at me. I saw her legs spread slightly, affording me a better view of her pussy. I pushed myself completely out of the pool, the water sheeting off me. My body glistened in the sunshine. The bottoms of my bikini turned from white to almost transparent when wet. I strode toward Mae with just enough determination to make my boobs jiggle. I stopped next to Mae slowly bending over to pick up the towel from my chair, trusting my ass toward her as I did so. My pussy would be completely visible to her, peeking out from beneath my ass.

"The water was really nice," I commented. I turned back toward her and slowly and sensually made a show of wiping the water from my body. I warped the towel behind me bringing the two ends around to dry myself. I brought one end up and wiped the water off my breasts, one at a time so that one was always open to Mae's view. As I finished drying myself, I spread the towel back over my lounge chair. I spread my legs, and bent over deeply, letting my barely clad pussy hover over Mae's face. I could feel the material clinging to my pussy and knew that almost every fold was defined. She still refused to take the bait, so I spread myself back across the lounge chair, making myself comfortable for Mae's coming show. "You should take a dip."

"I think maybe I will," she replied. "You made the water look so good. It made me want to get all wet."

Mae stood, and walked to the pool. Her ass swayed with the rhythm her movements. I admired every curve of her tiny body as she walked. Mae jumped into the pool and squealed with delight. She swam a full lap of the pool on her back, her erect nipples clearly visible piercing the surface of the water. It was harder for Mae at the deep end of the pool as she was so short. She finally made it the edge and hopped back up on the deck. As she stood I realized that what I had taken for struggling in the water had been her removing her bottoms. Mae stood before me completely naked. It was then that I noticed her suite floating on the surface of the pool.

I put a foot on the ground on either side of my lounge, opening my pussy to her view. Mae walked straight to the foot of my chair. "You were right," she said, "The water was wonderful. But now I'm all wet." She continued forward, and straddled the lounge so that she stood directly over my hips.

I reached forward, running my fingers over her pussy lips. "You ARE very wet. I'm sure I can think of a way remedy your situation."

"I was sure that you would think of something." Mae replied. She leaned forward and kissed me directly on the lips. Her tongue snaked out of her mouth, brushed against my lips, which spread immediately for it. I suck her tongue into my mouth. My fingers continued to work her pussy, grinding into her. Mae let out a low moan. I reached my other hand up to her tits, cupping one, and squeezing it, then pulling on the amazing nipple at its tip. I felt one of Mae's hands slide inside the waist band of my bathing suite. Her finger tips moved down to my pussy. I gasped as she started to rub my clit. I was so incredibly wet. I pushed one, then two fingers into her hot, sopping hole. They slid in easily. 

Mae's tongue continued to wrestle with mine, moving from one mouth to the other. Finally she broke the kiss saying, "I want to eat your pussy." With out waiting for a response she dropped between my legs, pulling the sodden fabric of my bikini aside and drove her tongue into my pussy. Quickly she decided that the bathing suite had to go. She undid the strings at either side, and pulled the fabric from between my legs, tossing it behind her.

"Fuck," I cried as she devoured me. "Oh, Mae that feels so good." I grabbed the back of her head and forced her face into my pussy. Her tongue was as far as it would go in my pussy exploring my depths. She withdrew her tongue, and started to suck my pussy into her mouth. She sucked on my lips, and then my clit, running her tongue over every fold in my pussy. 

"Fuck that feels so good. I love the way you eat my pussy. Eat me. Eat my fucking pussy good. Oh fuck yes." I cried out into the late morning air.

Mae drove two fingers into my pussy, and started to fuck me deeply with them, her lips now concentrating on my clit. I moaned and cried my approval encouraging her to continue. "Oh yes Mae, suck my clit. Suck it hard. Yes, just like that. Oh fuck. Fuck my pussy with those long fingers of yours. Fuck me hard. Oh, fuck me like that. Yes. Make me cum. Suck my clit until I cum. Oh, yes just like that." I loved Mae's long fingers. She had such incredible fingers for such a little women, but they could penetrate me deeper then my own could, and I loved it.

I grabbed my tits, cupping one in each hand. I massaged them, pulled on my nipples. I could feel the beginning of my orgasm starting to build. "Fuck," I cried out. "Oh yes, fuck me with those fucking fingers. Fuck my pussy. Fuck me nice and hard. Fuck me. Don't stop sucking my clit, oh yes, suck it, suck it, suck it, suck it. Oh, fuck yes. Fuck me. Just like that. Fuck my fucking pussy. Fuuuuuuuuuuck. Oh yyyyyyyesssss. God, yes. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck mmmeeeeeeeeeeee. Ffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccckkk mmmmeeeeeeeeeeeee. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. Fffuuuuuuuuuccccccckkk. Yyyyyyeeeeessss. Iiiiiiiiii'mmmmmmmmmm cuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinngg."

My body went stiff, and my hips bucked up. I grabbed Mae's head and held it against my pussy. Her tongue did not stop. Her lips locked on to my pussy and she tried to lap every drop of my nectar from inside my pussy. 

She was gasping for breath, a huge smile across her face, when I let her up, as my orgasm subsided. Mae's lips glistened with my cum. I pulled her to me, kissing her deeply, savoring the flavor of my pussy on her lips. Mae pulled away. "I think it's time for you to do something about how wet I am. So far that only made me wetter." She pulled at one of my tits playfully as she spoke.

Mae moved up the chair until she was standing on it straddling me. Her pussy was inches from my face. I leaned forward and let my tongue brush across the outsides of her folds. I could taste her already; her juices were literally dripping from her lips. I sucked the flesh of her pussy into my mouth. My tongue split her folds, and traced the inside of her lips. Mae moaned, lowering her pussy on to my mouth, so that she was practically sitting on my face. I greedily accepted the improved access that she had just granted me, and slid my tongue up into her as deeply as I could manage. I started to fuck her with my tongue. I grabbed her ass with both hands and pulled her into me. I moved my attention up to her clit, sucking it into my mouth. Her clit too seemed oversized for her frame; it was larger then mine. I sucked on it like a little cock. This always drove Mae wild. She grabbed the back of my head, and rocked her hips into my face, as I sucked on her. Her breathing was starting to become labored. "Oh fuck yes", she cried.

I moved back to the opening of her pussy, sliding my tongue inside her again. I then started to lap the full length of her pussy, hooking the tip of my tongue inside her, and then licking up, and flicking her clit, then sucking it into my mouth. This was guaranteed to make her cum. I didn't have to wait long before I was rewarded.

"Oh yes, yyyesss. Yyyeeeeeeeessss. Ffuuuucck. YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, YEEESSS. YESYESYESYESYESYYES. I'M GOING TO FUCKING CUM." Mae was not terribly loud, but when she cums, she's a screamer. Her cum shot from her pussy, covering my face in the slick juice. I tried to drink down what I could, but it was everywhere before I had a chance. I lapped what I could from her pussy and thighs. Mae dropped down onto me so that she was lying on top of me, and kissed me firmly on the mouth. She then started to lick her juices off my face. I played with her nipples as she cleaned me.

It was then that I noticed the incredible stillness to the day. It was completely quiet, except for the chirping of the birds and the sound of car from the street out front. Mae sat up, looking completely satisfied, licking her lips. Over her shoulder I saw the reason for the sudden quite. Four construction workers from the addition that was being added to the house next door stood on the roof of the construction watching us. All four had visible erections, and two were rubbing them through their pants. 

"Don't turn now," I told Mae, "But the workers on the Johnson's house next door, have been watching us."

A devilish glint came to Mae's eyes. "Well I don't suppose we can just leave them like that can we?"

Coming to the same thought that Mae had, I replied, "No I don't suppose we can."

Mae rose off of me, "I think we should bring them some refreshments," she said. "Do you have any lemonade in the house?"

"As a matter of fact I just made some yesterday."

"Well let's go get it and bring it over." Mae started toward the house. She was in no hurry, knowing that she was on display and loving every minute of it. I quickly caught up with her, and took her hand. Together we walked to the house.

Sure enough once we had disappeared into the house, the boys thought that the show was over, and returned to work.

"They aren't home next door are they?" Mae asked.

"No. They went Cape Cod for the summer. They didn't want to be around while their house was under construction."

I grabbed a tray and some glasses while Mae found the pitcher of lemonade in the fridge. I think that the cold air of from the fridge made her nipples even harder, if that was possible.

Carrying a tray with six tall glasses of lemonade, and wearing not a thread we made our way next door to the Johnson's. Arriving in their backyard we surveyed the situation. It seemed that the workers had stopped again. It must have been their lunch break. We heard voices coming from inside the house. The walls of the addition were up, but the doors and windows had not yet been installed. Mae and I made our way across the Johnson's yard, and up to what would be their back door. Through the door I saw the four men that had been watching us earlier. They sat on the floor, spread out across the room, a pile of lumber between them with several tool belts and open lunch boxes upon it.

As we walked into the house I called out, "Would anyone care for some lemonade?" The contractors looked up, expressions of surprise mixed with lust and excitement on their faces. 

"As it is such a hot day out, we thought that you might want some refreshments," Mae stated as she offered the tray to the closest worker, a small wiry man with dark curly hair and a tattoo of a tiger on his shoulder. 

"Thank you," he said talking a glass from the tray. "It certainly is a hot day." 

"So are you nudists?" asked a man standing against the wall. His close cropped hair was graying though he still seemed quite fit.

"No, we are not nudists; we just figured that there was no reason to put our cloths back on as you have already seen all there is to see," I answered. "I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, no. No problem at all. I always enjoy the sight of a beautiful woman, and I must say that you both qualify."

"Well I guess we should introduce ourselves. My name is Lisa, and this is my friend Mae."

The gray haired man, which I surmised to be the foreman of the small outfit, responded, "I'm Skip. That there is Ray," He said indicating the man with the tiger tat. Mae served drinks to the other two workers as they were introduced by Skip. Rick was an incredibly handsome man, with chiseled features, that made my insides quiver. I was very much looking forward to getting his pants off. And Mike, who was quite young, possibly still in college; he had long blond hair tied back in a ponytail, and well muscled body. Mae finally made it back to me, handing me the last of lemonade. 

Taking a swallow of the refreshing liquid I said, "We also wanted to apologize for putting you in such an uncomfortable position earlier. We hadn't realized that we were causing such a disturbance to you, but we did notice that you were watching and we hoped that you enjoyed the show. Though we would now like to relieve any discomfort that our earlier behavior may have caused you."

"Well that is right thoughtful of you," said Skip. "I could certainly use some release after that show that you two put on earlier. I don't think that I've come down from that yet." With that Skip unbuckled his pants, letting them drop to the floor. His mostly erect cock sprang out of his boxers. It was at least 10" long. My mouth began to water. Mae dropped to her knees in front of the mammoth member, grabbing into by the shaft and stuffing it into her mouth. Skip gasped as she wrapped her lips around his shaft, and started to suck it into her mouth. 

Mae's actions were like the pistol going off at the beginning of a race. The others hurriedly moved to join in on the action. I took a position on the floor next to Mae, so that she was to my right, and slightly behind me, and waited for the cocks to come to me. This did not take long; Ray, Rick and Mike all had their pants off, and dicks standing at attention. Ray was the first to reach me. I grabbed his cock and licked the 8" length of it. It tasted great, I wanted cock so badly. 

Moments later Rick had his thick member pointed at my face. I immediately took hold of his shaft and started to slide my hand along it. I slipped Ray's cock from my mouth and inserted Rick's. He was so thick that I almost had trouble getting my lips around him. I was looking forward to him fucking my pussy. I had known that I was going to enjoy his cock, just from looking at him.




Lemonade and Pussy



Hi folks. This is my first story of the two oh one four. it's a little bit long so you can stretch out and think about how flawed the characters are and decide for yourself where they all went wrong. I'd love to hear your opinions on this one. This is an experiment into trying to make both crowds happy. I think there's enough revenge for the BTB people and enough romance for everyone else. But you never know. SS06

* * * * * *

She's a good baby. That's what I thought as I started the lawn mower that bright Saturday morning. The Briggs and Stratton motor came to life with a roar in response to just one pull of the starter cord. I glanced at the two year old baby girl strapped into her car seat on our new porch. She looked back at me and smiled. 

The sun was high in the sky and it was already over 80 degrees even though it was barely 9 in the morning. The famous Texas heat was clearly all it was cracked up to be. I had already changed into just a tank top and shorts to begin attempting to tame the overgrown forest that called itself a lawn in front of our new home in the Dallas suburbs.

If you'd told me two years ago that I would be a single parent living in Texas on the QT, I'd have laughed at you. But that was exactly what I was. As I forced my way through the overgrown lawn for the first time, it felt like I was always looking over my shoulder. I guess I was, both figuratively and literally. 

I was literally looking over my shoulder to make sure my daughter was okay. I'd pushed the car seat far enough away from the edge that I didn't have to worry about her wiggling movements causing the seat to fall off of the low porch. But I also did it to keep her out of the sun. As usual I'd made sure she was close enough that she'd be able to see me all over the yard. 

Somehow at twenty-nine years old, fighting my way through the overgrown grass made me feel old. I remembered that when I was a kid, I could cut the grass at my parents' home and then do our two adjacent neighbors houses in about two hours and never even breathe hard. I especially enjoyed doing the grass at the neighbors' houses because they paid me. But now, I was only halfway done with a much smaller plot of grass and I was exhausted. 

I almost didn't hear her approach. She was certainly light on her feet. When I did hear her, she was only a few feet away from me. I whirled around ready to either fight or grab my daughter and flee. She was already in her car seat and my Mustang was pointed towards the street in our driveway. I kept copies of all of our important papers in the car and a good set of fakes too. We could be out of anywhere in seconds if need be. 

But there was no need. "Hi neighbor," she smiled. She was a bigger girl. A very bigger girl, but she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. There was an almost musical quality to her voice. For her size she was extremely proportionate. Her boobs were huge. Even encased in what must have been an industrial strength brassiere under her light top, they dominated the area. Her waist was pretty small for a big girl and her ass was pretty tempting. Her legs were very tight and tan and shiny with some sort of lotion or oil. Her feet drew me like magnets. Her shoes were very tiny with open toes and her toenails were painted the same shade, that I call "Whore Red," as my Mustang.

She didn't shy away from my appraisal. In fact, she reveled in it. It was almost as if my gaze felt like warm rays of sunshine on her generous curves.

"Welcome to the neighborhood," she gushed. "I thought I'd come over and meet you and the lady in your life. If there's anything I can do to help you become comfortable in our little town, just ask." 

I smiled and tried not to stare at her boobs and failed miserably. "Come on and meet her then," I said. It was then I noticed the tray she was carrying. There were three frosty glasses of an un-named liquid on the tray. We got to the porch and I stopped in front of the car seat. "This is my daughter Alyssa. I call her Allie for short." She put the tray down on the porch and looked at my daughter. 

Allie's face immediately screwed up. Her little lips pursed and her eyes hardened as if the woman was invading our territory. 

"Oh my God," gushed the woman. "You must've just spit her out whole. She has your hair color, your eyes, and even your nose. Does she have any of her mother's features? Bring the lady of the house out here so I can meet her too."

"You just met her," I said. "I'm Mike. There's only Allie and me."

"Even better," she gushed, her smile got just a bit brighter. "I'm Margarita. You can call me Rita. I saw you working in your yard and thought I'd invite you two over for dinner on my deck later." 

"We'd love to," I said. "...If it's not too much trouble." 

She smiled and reached over to the forgotten tray. "And since you're out here working in the heat, I brought you some of my famous..."

"Water?" I said tersely. My smile had faded and I stopped staring at those incredible pillows hiding beneath her shirt. 

She had leaned back as she sat on the porch, which only seemed to make them even more prominent. "No, Silly," she smiled. "It's my world famous lemonade. Would you..." In that second everything changed. It was as if the birds stopped singing. I tensed up, noticeably. Allie's face got red and she started to cry, reaching for me even as it started. 

"What happened?" she asked in confusion.

"I think she's had too much sun," I spat. "I'm going to take her inside."

"But...!" she said to my back as I scooped up my daughter and escaped into our house. 

It took me almost an hour to calm Allie down. I fed her and cleaned up the milk she spilled. Then I did her favorite thing. I picked her up in my arms and carried her around the house rocking her and telling her favorite story. It only took five minutes to get her to go to sleep. Once she was asleep, I sat her back in her car seat and went to finish the grass. 

Perhaps I was fueled by anger, or maybe I'd done the harder sections in the morning, but it didn't take me any time to finish the yard. After that I got the bucket out and dragged my cart of supplies out and washed my car. As I finished, I heard two things competing for my attention and curiosity. The first was the sound of Allie waking up over on the porch and calling for me as she tried to get out of her car seat. Allie could walk as well as any two year old, but she couldn't undo the straps on the car seat. That had saved her from mischief more times than I could remember.

As I rescued my daughter from her car seat, I heard the second thing that had piqued my curiosity. It was the sound of soft piano music coming from next door. I wondered if Rita played the piano. I went up to the second floor of my house and looked out the window into the yard next door. Her yard, unlike mine was beautifully landscaped. 

She had a very nice deck and what looked like a hot tub. Rita was lying on the deck on a recliner. She was wearing a very skimpy swim suit despite her size. She was reading a bunch of papers and apparently making some sort of notes on them. I got the idea that maybe she was a teacher grading papers. Another thing that played into that theory was the glasses that she wore perched on the end of that beautiful nose. 

I have to admit that I spent more time looking at those huge boobs that were literally spilling out of the cups of the swim suit's top. She looked around as if her boobs had sensors on them and she could tell that someone was staring at them. Her dark red hair glowed in the fading sunlight and the expression on her heart shaped face was angelic. I began to feel badly about the way that I'd treated her earlier. 

"Are you hungry Allie?" I asked my shadow.

"Hungry, Allie," she said.

I grabbed her up in one arm and headed out into my back yard. I knocked on the tall fence between our yards and said, "Hey," loudly. 

A few seconds later I heard the sound of something being dragged over to the fence. Then I saw Rita's beautiful head sticking over the top of the fence. She smiled wryly. The way her nose crinkled awed me. Her eyes were huge. They were the most luminous brown eyes I had ever seen. Her long eyelashes and perfect Cupid's bow mouth made it impossible for me to look away. 

"Mike, can you hear me?" she asked. "Is the music too loud? Why are you staring at me like that?"

I shook my head to clear it first and then told her. "Rita, I came to apologize for the way I acted before. It actually had nothing to do with you. I guess I was remembering something from our past and it made me jumpy."

"Apology accepted," she smiled. "But I'm pretty thick skinned. You didn't actually do anything wrong. It happens sometimes. People are all different. Believe me; I know that I'm not everyone's cup of tea."

"Uhm, so is it too late for that dinner, you promised us?" I smiled.

"I didn't promise," she gushed. "I offered."

"And I accepted," I gushed right back. "So here, I'm coming over." I handed her Allie over the fence and she was surprised but she took her. I then scrambled over the fence to her uproarious laughter. 

"Wow, you two must be really hungry," she laughed. 

"Hungry, Allie," spouted my daughter. 

"I'll go put on something less comfortable, while you light the grill," said Rita. 

"You don't have to change on my account," I offered. 

"I'll bet," she smirked, looking down below my belt. I suddenly realized that I had a very apparent boner. "I don't want you to burn that thing on the grill. So I'm going to cover up a bit." She handed Allie back to me and walked away. I was mesmerized by the sway of her hips as she went towards her house. 

I put my daughter on the recliner that Rita had just been on. I went over and looked at her grill. It was a small propane grill. It didn't have a push button start, but it was easy to figure out. I turned on the gas by a valve attached to the propane tank and then lit the burner with a lighter that she had on a shelf next to the grill. 

Rita came back a few moments later with a couple of really nice looking steaks and some corn. The steaks had already been seasoned and marinated. 

I looked at her suspiciously. "You knew I'd be back," I said. 

"I took a chance," she smiled. I turned and saw my daughter struggling to get her legs off of the recliner. Her feet touched the deck and she fell onto her butt and then pushed herself up. She walked as quickly as she could towards the edge of the deck. I whirled to see what had drawn her attention. 

Curled up in a corner of the deck on a big pillow was a large cat. Allie teetered over to the cat and introduced herself. "Allie, Cat," she proudly proclaimed. Then she dropped down to one knee and started rubbing the cat and giggling. 

"Don't worry, she won't hurt her. She's a very old, very gentle Cat," said Rita. I put the steaks on the grill and Rita and I sat down to watch Allie playing with her new friend as the sun went down. 

We had a nice time and the conversation flowed well. The playful banter between Rita and I was testament to our almost instant attraction. She was very open and I often found myself lost in those big brown eyes. Sometimes the things she said were so funny and so honest, at the expense of her own ego that I was sure I was falling in love with her. 

I did leave once, to go back to the house to get some of Allie's favorite foods. I brought back some of her chicken nuggets which I warmed on the grill and some applesauce for her desert. I also brought her green beans even though she usually had to be distracted or starving to get her to eat them. Surprisingly though, I hadn't even able to convince her to come home with me.

"Allie, let's go home and get your dinner, baby girl," I said to her. 

"Allie, cat, DA DA," she said firmly. I guess the look on my face was priceless. Allie had never before chosen anything else over me. And I was beaten out by a cat. 

"Relax, Mike," said Rita. "I won't let anything happen to her during the three minutes it will take you to run home and grab her dinner."

My look was probably skeptical, because she continued to talk. If only she knew how big a leap of faith trusting her actually was. But for some reason, I was sure that I could trust Rita. I got ready to climb back over the fence and heard her giggling behind me. I turned and the laughter reflected in those brown eyes again stole my heart. 

"Not that I wouldn't enjoy watching your butt as you scamper back over the fence, but wouldn't it be easier to use the gate?" she laughed. 

"What gate?" I asked stupidly. She pointed and I saw the gate only ten feet from where I was attempting to climb. 

"Guess what's located about three feet towards your house from my gate?" she asked. I shrugged my shoulders, lost in those eyes still. 

"Your gate," she laughed. I walked to the gate opened it and closed it behind me. As she said, very close to the gate in her fence was a gate on mine that I hadn't noticed. I dashed into the kitchen and brought back the things for Allie's dinner. 

While Allie ate we continued to talk. Rita told me about herself. She had grown up in a normal family in Florida. She thought that there was nothing special about her. Her boobs started growing at an early age and just never stopped growing. After college, she couldn't find a job and ended up doing some modeling. 

"I know that shocks you because of my body," she said shyly. 

"Not at all," I said. "I could really see you modeling." 

"Mike, no you couldn't," she said. "It was embarrassing. It wasn't really modeling. I mostly modeled lingerie. I was so embarrassed. The money was great, but as soon as I got the chance to get out of it. I did. My job now, allows me to both keep my clothes on and to use the degree I worked my ass off to get in college. I'm an editor for a magazine about women's lifestyles." She looked at me and waved her hand in front of my face. 

"I'm so boring, you fell asleep listening to me huh?" she asked. 

"No, Rita," I said smiling. "You're so pretty I go into a trance looking at you."

She suddenly burst out laughing and didn't stop until she noticed that I wasn't laughing. 

"Mike, I'm fat," she said. 

"I think you're perfect, just the way you are," I told her. As if to prove that women are the most confusing creatures on God's green earth, she smiled...but at the same time a tear rolled down her cheek. And those beautiful eyes that I'd been staring at all day, lost a bit of their luster. 

Her next move was definitely an attempt to change the mood.

"Mike, I think the steaks are done," she said. "And I think that we should probably eat at your place." 

I looked at where she was pointing and saw Allie, fast asleep with one hand on Rita's easily pleased cat.

"I'll get the food. You put the baby to bed," she said. Even as she said it, I got a tingle. 

I picked up my sleeping daughter and carried her home. I put her in her bed and tucked one of her favorite stuffed animals in beside her. As usual I left her door open and the lights in the hall on in case she got up on the middle of the night. I also turned her baby monitor on. Since Allie could talk and walk, I didn't really need the monitor, but I still used it anyway. 

I walked into the kitchen, looking for Rita and didn't find her. She was sitting in the couch in front of my fireplace. I wondered why the hell a house in Texas had a fireplace. 

"Can we light it?" she asked. She stuck out her bottom lip and I knew that I would never be able to refuse her anything. 

A few minutes later, we were sitting in the dark with only the fireplace for light. The air conditioning kept the Texas heat at bay and kept the fire from making the house even hotter. 

"This is so romantic," she said. "That makes it even worse."

"Makes what worse?" I asked. 

"Mike, I'm a good woman. So what you want isn't going to happen tonight," she said. She looked at me as if she was aching. 

She scooted her big butt over next to me and put her head on my shoulder. "Mike, I didn't tell you everything," she said. "I left out a lot of the fine details. After college, getting a job was hard. Everything I was offered sounded great, but paid so little that I wouldn't be able to support myself. That was why I got into the modeling thing in the first place. And what I did wasn't exactly modeling. I was a web cam girl. Men and a surprising number of women paid money by the minute to see me and talk to me. And yes, Mike, I took my clothes off. For most of my life men have wanted to see my titties. And on the web site they got a chance to see them, and the rest of me too. 

It was really good money but I hated myself while I was doing it. And the pressure to do more was incredible."

"What do you mean the pressure to do more?" I asked. She tried to pull herself away from me. But I grabbed her and pulled back where she was. 

"They offered me a lot of money to do porn," she said. "Mike they offered me fifty thousand dollars to do a ten minute scene with my best friend, Brenda. I guess Brenda and I are opposites. I'm a cow, she's a butter face. She has the body of a swimsuit model, but her face..." I couldn't help laughing.

"And Mike, the world is a really messed up place. I guess my parents sheltered me too much. I had no idea how bad some people could be. There were lots of guys that I met, that told me and promised me everything..." Another tear came out and her voice broke. I hugged her tighter. 

"Mike, most of them just wanted my tits. The funny thing is that most of them really couldn't handle it. I had a few who took me out and followed me around for days just to get a crack at me, but then freaked out as soon as I opened my blouse. I had a couple who came in their pants as soon as they saw my tits. None of them were the worst though. The worst was the guy who dated me for weeks. He painted the most beautiful picture you've ever seen, Mike. We were going to do this and we were going to do that. He was old fashioned like me, so we were supposed to get engaged when we'd been together for a year. 

So I was all in. And I really thought that I loved him. We had been dating for about a month when I finally went to bed with him. And it was pretty good. There were things that I wanted him to do for me, that I did for him, that didn't happen. But I figured we couldn't do everything the first night. 

There was never a second night. I awoke the next morning with my heart so full of love that I could barely contain it. I found out that I was the butt of all kinds of jokes at work the next day. Every guy in the studio was leering at me and making snide comments. I tried to call him but his phone went to voicemail every time. At lunch time Brenda came out of her room and quickly threw a towel on. She pulled me over to the ladies room and told me that my true love had told every person he ran into that he had fucked me. He told them everything they wanted to know about my body including some things that weren't true.

Mike my web cam site was tame by the standards they had back then. I didn't do total nudity. I did, at the end of every session, allow one of my breasts to show, but even then most of the nipple was concealed. Brenda knew about this. She herself had no such scruples. She wore a variety of masks to hide her face and to add some mystery, but she was totally nude most of the time and did things to herself that I don't do in my most private moments alone. 

But even though we were best friends, it was hard for Brenda to tell me the rest. The asshole had somehow secretly placed his cell phone on the table next to the bed. And he had video of himself having sex with me. He put it up on the web and I had to literally sue him to get him to take it down. And he was telling everyone he ran into about it. Since then, I don't date or at least I haven't, because I've just lost the ability to trust people. I know I'm a big fat cow, but I have some feelings too. 




Lemonade and Pussy



I've often heard that for every guy that treats women like shit, there's some twisted bitch out there that made him that way. But Mike, there are a lot of really bad men out there too. I get the feeling that you like me a lot. You're not like the rest of those guys. I mean you look at my boobs too, I guess that's normal for men, but you spent a lot of time today looking at my face. And you like it. But if you want to get to know me, and I really, really hope you do, it's going to take you some time to get into my panties." She seemed almost sad as she said it.

"Mike, I really do like you too," she said. And she squeezed my hand as if trying to emphasize her point. "But we need to take things really slow because I don't want to be hurt again." I laughed then and her pretty face contorted. I got up and walked away from her. When I got back she was standing up and gathering her things. 

"Where are you going?" I asked. 

"I told you my sad little story and you couldn't get away from me fast enough," she said. "It made me sad but it just seems like you're another guy who thought that the fat girl was so desperate for love that she'd be an easy lay."

"Rita, you're starting to get on my nerves," I said. "A woman as pretty as you are should be more confident. Now get over here in your place." 

"Where is my place, exactly?" she asked lifting one eyebrow. 

"Right next to me, wherever I am," I said. She smiled another one of those brilliantly bright smiles and came over to me in front of the fire. I lifted my arm and she wrapped it back around herself. This time she was more at ease and one of those huge heavy breasts pushed against my side. She smiled up at me evilly. Apparently, though I wasn't getting any, she wasn't beyond teasing me.

"Rita, I'm sorry for the things that happened to you. That guy was a real asshole. But there are plenty of them on both sides of the gender fence. And you have no monopoly on heartache, Honey. I'm glad you told me your story, but you have to have faith that every person you meet isn't like that. You have to learn to trust again sometime. 

Rita, do you know why I got up a few moments ago? I went to check on Allie. It's deeply ingrained in me. I check on her all the time. I get up in the middle of the night to check on her and then go back to sleep. I should have told you where I was going.

Honey, what I'm about to tell you could get me in a lot of trouble, but I trust you so I'm going to risk it. I have never trusted anyone with it before, so that should give you some idea of how I feel about you.

I work for the city. I'm a Civil Engineer. I'm still just learning the job in Dallas. It's a little different from the same job back in Michigan, but I guess every city does things a little differently. 

I'm twenty-nine now, so yes, I'm a couple of years younger than you are and it doesn't matter one iota to me. But when this started I was twenty-six and had only been out of college for a couple of years. Yep, I didn't get my degree until I was twenty-four. I was in college for six years to get a four year engineering degree. I'm not a moron. The first two years I majored in football and fooling around. 

I was so sure that I was going into the NFL that I never considered any alternatives. I had no plan B. During my second year I got an injury that laid me up for three months and ended any hopes of playing pro football. In retrospect, it was a good thing. And it was even better that it happened to me when it did. 

It was a tough pill to swallow, but my parents raised me right. Just like yours did from what I can see. It took me a while before I could look at my old game films and see that I wouldn't have made it. I played football every day, starting from when I was five years old, to the day I got hurt. I put in fifteen fucking years of sacrificing everything to the gods of the pigskin. 

There are so many people who do that. There are states like fucking Ohio that are nothing but football factories. Uhm, I like it here but Texas is kind of like that too. Anyway, there are a lot of players who are great at the college level, but end up being busts at the pro level. I can think of Joey Harrington, Rodney Pete, Tim Tebow and several of Michigan's latest quarterbacks who all fit the profile. Anyway, I was one of those. 

I had all kinds of coaches and trainers blowing smoke up my ass and pumping my head up, hoping for a ride on the gravy train when I turned pro. But when I looked back at my game films after the injury, it was clear to me that I just looked awkward out there. 

When I got back to school after the injury, I realized that I'd wasted two years of school. Most of the classes that I had taken were worthless. I had never even been serious enough to declare a major. If you look at colleges nowadays, it's still the same. Any athlete who lists general studies as their major, but doesn't take any English or math classes, is probably majoring in their sport. 

So once I graduated, I decided to stay in Michigan. I loved it there. I love the change of the seasons. I love the fact that I could fish and water-ski all summer and do anything you can do in the tropical places all summer, and then do anything you can do in the snow-belt states all winter. The spring and the fall in Michigan have to be seen to be believed. People come from all over the world to experience the fall colors there, but fuck it; I probably won't be going back there any time soon.

So there I was two years after college, out with a crew in the suburb of Detroit that I worked for. The state was building a new freeway on-ramp. We had mapped out all of the affected homes in the area. But some of the people who were going to stay on their homes would be affected too. We'd have to reroute or relocate a lot of power lines, gas lines, telephone lines and sewer pipes to make room for the freeway. 

It was at one of those houses that I met her. I got off the truck with my crew and we let her know that we'd be marking the gas pipes and underground utility structures under her property. 

I pegged her as being in her mid to late thirties. She told me she was thirty-two. I didn't find out until much later that she had lied to me and that was one of the milder ones. 

She looked like your average, every day, early middle-aged woman. She wasn't really anything special. You pass women like her on the street every day. Her hair was collar length and a light brown color that didn't stand out. She wore glasses. She also wore heavy eye make-up under her glasses which looks kind of odd to me. She was smoking a cigarette on the porch of her tiny ranch house that day that we started working on her property.

She looked at me and she kept looking. It was weird, even when I'd catch her looking at me, she didn't turn away. She actually came over to see what I was doing. While my guys were placing flags and markers, or testing the ground to see where certain things were located, I took down measurements. That way, I could draw a detailed, updated map of the property. After a while she was as close to me as you are right now. She wasn't ashamed of her body or any of her several tattoos. And there's just something kind of slutty about a woman who's past thirty, walking around in shorts that show the cheeks of her ass. She also bent over, supposedly so I could see her obnoxious tramp stamp. 

She went back inside her house after a while and came back with a glass. "Would you like some of my world famous lemonade?" she asked. I thanked her and drank it down. It was as hot as hell that day. And shit, that lemonade really was good.

"Want some more?" she asked when I drained that first glass. 

"I don't want to put you to any trouble," I said. 

"It won't be any trouble at all, Honey," she said she walked back inside her house swinging her ass from side to side. When her ass swung like that it seemed to be bigger and less flat. 

As soon as she was gone, my guys gave it to me. "Are you going to slip inside and fuck her now, or come back later?" asked my crew chief, Ronald Donald. No one called him Ronald. We all called him by his middle name, "Mack."

"What the hell are you talking about Mack?" I asked.

"Mike that old trailer park slut has the hots for you," he laughed. "Just remember these words of wisdom. Rule number one...Wear two condoms. Just in case one breaks. "

"Rule number two," cited another of the crew, Jack Tripper. "Make sure that you bring your own condoms, because hers are probably pre-punctured to make sure they have holes in them."

"Hey, she's not that old," I said. "She's only thirty two." They all started laughing at that too.

"Mike, her panties are older than thirty two," said Mack.

Before they could give me any more of their rules, she was back. She spent the entire afternoon, bending and posing in front of me while my crew could barely keep their faces straight. For a single young man, the attention was flattering. And towards the time when we packed up, she came right out and asked me to dinner. 

"I don't suppose that after you finish up, you'd want to come back and spare an old woman the pain of eating dinner alone, would you?" she asked. "I never get used to eating alone. I'm not going to push you, but I just thought that since you're single and I'm single and I hate eating alone that...I mean no strings attached and I wouldn't expect you to do anything that you're not comfortable with...well I don't want to put any pressure on you. If you show up, we'll eat. But if you don't...Oh well."

All the way back to the office, my guys made fun of me. And they knew nothing of her dinner invitation. "Boy, I thought surely you were going to have to take advantage of our health care program," said Mack. "Do they take our cards down at the VD clinic?"

The new guy on the crew, Calvin Johnson, got the award though. "Mike, which day should I set my DVR for?" he asked.

"Calvin, what the fuck are you talking about?" I asked. 

"Jeez, Mike," he smiled. "I just want to know which day you're going to be on Maury. I want to see it when he says, "Mike, you ARE the father!" The rest of the guys were laughing their asses off at that. What a bunch of comedians. I miss them.

But besides their jokes, after work I went back. I guess maybe it was the fact that I was a young single guy. So the thought of a free dinner and the implied sex, was pretty hard to turn down. 

When I pulled up in front of her house, she was sitting on a recliner on her front porch. She had one leg up as she laid there. And I swear I could see her vagina through the leg hole in the shorts. As I stepped up onto the porch, she let the leg roll to the side, exposing herself even more. She reached down beside the beer she was drinking and pulled out a glass of lemonade that was just sitting there as if she was sure that I was coming. 

I just took the glass and sipped it. "That world famous lemonade gets them every time," she smirked. 

"Why do you call it, "World Famous?" I asked. 

"Honey, that's just what I call it," she said. "It doesn't mean anything. I doubt that outside of my friends and family, anyone has ever heard of me. Let alone my lemonade. But the thing is that everybody likes to think that they're special. We all like to think that there are one or two things that we can do better than anyone else on this big blue marble. And, me, I'm just another blade of grass on a big assed field. I can only think of two things that I'm good at. But in those two things, I'm really fucking good." 

"So what are...?" I started to say. She smiled and didn't even wait for me to finish the question that she had been leading me up to since I got there. In fact, she'd been leading me to it since we met that morning. 

"Lemonade and Pussy," she said without cracking a smile. She said it in as matter of fact a tone as if I'd said, "My Mustang's exhaust system is loud as hell."

I had never at that time heard a woman who was so upfront about sex. I was shocked. I almost choked on the lemonade I had just sipped. 

She waited until I could breathe again before asking me the next question. 

"You've had the lemonade," she said, smiling. "Do you want to try the other part?" 

The rest of that evening is a blur. I don't remember anything except her question. I was eating my lunch the next day and it all started coming back to me. I remembered then how I got the huge bruise on my shin, when I tripped running up the stairs to her bedroom. 

I remember her giving me the best blowjob I had ever had in my life. And she kept doing it. Every time I came, she sucked me back to life. I was twenty-six years old and she fucked me into a stupor. After the third time, I was holding up the time out sign by making a, "T," with my hands. She went downstairs and came back with some day old pizza that she heated up in the microwave. After eating it we took a nap. She woke me up in the middle of the night for more sex and woke me in the morning to find out what time I had to be at work. 

"Nine," I said. I was exhausted. 

"Good," she said. "That gives us a couple of hours." She climbed on top of me and we were at it again. She was the sluttiest, nastiest woman I have ever met. Nothing was off of the table. I left at seven thirty to go home and shower before I went to work. 

"What time are you coming back?" she asked. I was confused. I didn't remember saying that I would be back. 

"Look, uhm...?" I began.

"Leanne," she said, smiling. "And your name is Mike, right?" I nodded. 

"Mike, I know that I said no strings, but last night was special to me. Do you really have anything going tonight that's better than what we just did?" 

I thought about it and in less than a second. "No," I said. 

"I promise you dinner this time, too," she said. "How about, making something on the grill?"

"That sounds good," I said. Then she planted a big kiss on me. She climbed right up into my lap and started rubbing herself against me again. 

I went back to my apartment and took a shower and changed into fresh clothes. I felt like something a dog had buried and then dug up. I was exhausted. But I was young and I was tingling all over. I'd just had one of those nights that men talk about forever. 

I didn't say a word about what had happened to the guys at work. I did spend the day thinking about it. And in the light of day there were several things I had to admit that I hadn't liked about the night. We hadn't spent any time talking. In fact every time I tried to ask her things, she changed the subject and continued trying to fuck me into submission. That meant that either she had something to hide, or she like me, was only interested in sex and not in a relationship. But that made sense. Why would an older woman like her, with her own home, be interested in someone as young as I was?

Being young though, had its advantages and by the time I got off work, I was already anticipating another sex filled romp. 

Boy was I surprised, when the door was opened by a really beautiful girl. She looked like she was my age or slightly younger. We looked at each other and I swear that something happened. 

Leanne came to the door before we had a chance to say anything and grabbed my arm. "I see you've met my daughter," she said. I was thrown for a loop. I did remember my manners though and came up with a lie to stall for time while my brain rebooted. 

"Are you sure she's your daughter?" I asked. "You don't seem old enough to have a daughter that old."

"She's not that old, dummy," said Leanne. "She's only nineteen." Then she whispered into my ear. "She's still innocent so she wouldn't do the kinds of things that I'm going to do to you later. Last night was only a warm up."

I gulped loudly, and as Leanne and I walked back towards the porch, I swear her innocent daughter rubbed the crotch of her jeans. As we got to the porch, two dirty little boys who must've been about seven and ten or thereabouts jumped up onto the porch and ran inside the house. 

My chin dropped and Leanne just smiled. "Are those yours too?" I asked. She nodded. "Jeezus, how many kids do you have?" I asked her.

"Only five," she said. "The other two are visiting their Aunt Kate for the summer. She has a farm. They'll be home in about three weeks." 

I didn't even say anything. I was too shocked. "Well let's get that grill started," she said. Then she whispered to me, "As soon as the kids go to bed, someone around here is gonna' get fucked." 

Her daughter came back out in a tank top that was so tight, that I could see her nipples through it. She was also wearing shorts that were very similar to the ones Leanne had worn the night before. "Mom I'm going over to Britney's house," she said. "I'll call and let you know I'm on the way before I come home."

I lit the grill. Leanne brought out a couple of gorgeous steaks and some burgers. "The steaks are for us," she smiled. "The boys only like hamburgers and hot dogs." 

"I was the same way," I said. My shock wore off and soon the four of us were having a good time. I was showing the boys how to throw a football while Leanne cleaned up. They had an endless amount of questions like most kids their age and I tried to answer them as honestly as I could. As the sun went down Leanne broke out a box of sparklers and I lit them and played with them with the boys. 

Then we played a game of hide and seek that involved me hiding and them trying to find me. But every time they got close I'd jump out and scare the living shit out of them. They screamed and ran back to the porch and wanted to do it again every time. I was almost a little sad when Leanne told me it was time for them to go to bed. 

When she came back she was smiling. "I don't think they've had that much fun since I lost my husband," she said. I was about to ask her about it. I felt really bad for her, but she shifted gears. She took my hand and pushed it under her skirt. She wasn't wearing any panties. "But you may as well start warming this up." 

She started rubbing my fingers on her pussy and it got hotter and wetter until her juices were covering my fingers. Then she licked it off and had me start again. She pulled me to her and started kissing me. It was the hottest kiss I had ever had in my life. The sensation of the kiss was incredible, but her breath tasted like cigarettes. It really detracted from what could have been earth shattering. 

After about twenty minutes of that, I had forgotten all of my questions. The only thing on my mind was getting some, with how long I had to wait, a close second.

"I'll go check on the kids," she mumbled between kisses. "You go get in the bed."

It didn't take her long and only a few minutes after I got into her bed she was with me. It seemed like she couldn't wait any longer either. I was thrusting into her liquid core only seconds after she joined me. Her catlike howls of pleasure were music to my ears. I loved fucking Leanne. Some of my lingering questions from the previous night had been answered though. Leanne's pussy wasn't particularly tight. But having five kids pulled out of it, explained that. 

At that moment, with her legs wrapped around me and her tiny tits smashed against my chest, I thought I was in heaven. We furiously fucked like there was no tomorrow, and nothing but that moment mattered. Once while I was slamming myself between her ass cheeks, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye, but when I turned my head, there was nothing there.

I'd gone into things with Leanne, with the clear understanding that there would be no strings. In fact, she'd been the one who'd said it.

But I knew when I was well off. Coming home every night and fucking the cowboy shit out of Leanne and playing with her kids was much better than going back to my crappy apartment to a can of soup and a cable porn channel.




Lemonade and Pussy



I was so much better off than all of the guys I worked with, married or single, that I didn't really care. Most of my single friends went out cruising bars every night. They started out chasing really pretty women, and usually by the end of the night they were happy to go home with anything with a pulse and a pussy. Most nights they went home alone. That's where the expression getting lucky came from. It was so rare that they got any, that they considered themselves lucky when it happened.

My married friends did marginally better. Of course they'd started out hot and heavy and as time wore on they ran smack, dab into matrimonial politics. Their wives only gave it to them once in a blue moon, unless they wanted something. 

I got it every night without fail. If we were arguing, we had angry sex. If we were feeling romantic, we had slow and loving sex. If we were feeling playful, we experimented. I had been in and tasted every hole on Leanne's body so many times, that we really had to work hard to find something we hadn't done.

I knew what I had with Leanne. I was young and I was in love. I had never said the words, but I was there every night. I had also started contributing to the household income. 

I loved her kids too. There were very few evenings that I didn't come home with some kind of snacks or treats for them. The only fly in the ointment was Jeanne. Jeanne was Leanne's oldest daughter. She constantly found fault with everything that her mother and I did. 

Whenever Leanne was away or just not looking, she flashed me or tried everything she could to tease me. "Why are you spending your nights with a woman who's too old for you?" she asked me once. 

"Look Jeanne, I love your mom," I said. "And maybe there is a bit of an age difference between us, but if you love her too, you should be glad that she's happy."

She just looked at me and shook her head. Three nights later, she was at it again. Leanne was in the shower and Jeanne put on a snow while I was watching TV. She stood right next to the TV and slowly pulled her skirt up until it was obvious that she wasn't wearing any panties. 

I had told Leanne about Jeanne's games, but she just smiled. "Mike, that girl hasn't had a male role model since we lost my husband. She's just acting out because she needs some attention. Is there anything that I should be worried about?"

"Of course not," I said. 

"Then let her do whatever she wants. She can get you warmed up for me," she said.

So that night as Jeanne started her show. I leaned back in the chair and watched in appreciation. Her legs were those long thin stems that only dancers and stripper seem to have. They seemed to go on for miles. Her pussy was trimmed in a way that shocked me. Most of the hair was gone, but the hair that was left was in the shape of the letter "M."

She turned around and revealed an ass that was a work of art. Unlike her mother, her ass wasn't flat. And she could shake it with the best of them. 

Like her mother, she was a charter member of the itty bitty titty committee, but her upturned nipples were mouth watering. I later found out that the night I thought I saw something in Leanne's room it had been Jeanne watching us.

"You like it, don't you Mike?" she teased. All she did though was to piss me off.

"I get it, Jeanne," I said angrily. "You don't like me. You don't want me here..."

She started laughing. "Mike, are you high?" she asked. "The only thing I don't like is the fact that you're in the wrong bed. But sooner or later..."

"I thought you were supposed to be innocent," I told her. "According to your mom..."

"Always has to be a first time," she said. "When I look at you and her, I can hear the clock ticking in the background. You and I on the other hand have all the time on the world. She can enjoy you for a while. You and I WILL be together."

Even as she said it, I felt a shiver go up my spine. It was like someone pissing on the ground I'd someday be buried under. I could see it in my mind. The two of us fucking like there was no tomorrow. But it could never happen. There was no way that I would ever cheat. 

"Everything that she can do for you," she said. "I can do. I will do. I'm her. We're exactly the same. I'm just her in a younger, fresher, prettier package." As she turned and walked away she kept her skirt around her waist until she left the room. She left me with a lingering glance at that beautiful ass. 

When Leanne came to bed that night, she was subdued. "What's wrong, Honey," I asked her.

"I really don't want things between us to end," she said softly. "We'll talk about it after." 

"After what?" I asked. Her only answer was to inhale my dick. As her lips tickled the hair around the base of my dick, I could feel the muscles of her throat massaging my shaft. And when we coupled it was as if she had to make every stroke last forever. Something told me that she was trying to give me everything she had. It was as if she was trying to pump her soul into me through the cylindrical piece of my anatomy that joined us. 

"I'll miss that," she said. 

"Why?" I asked. 

"No strings, remember?" she asked. 

"Leanne, I love you," I said. "I want strings."

"Mike, I'm pregnant," she said. I didn't say a word. 

"My doctor says that I'm about six weeks along. So it must've been one of those first few nights that we were together. I guess I went overboard. I'm so sorry. But I hadn't been with anyone since I lost my husband. I'll be okay. But I don't want you to feel like you..."

I lay back and stared at the ceiling. "I'm going to have to work really hard at this," I said. "I mean I already love your boys and I'm...you're going to have to watch me..."

"Watch you what?" she asked.

"Leanne, I have to treat them all the same," I said. "I don't want the others to feel slighted or feel like I treat him better than the others because he's mine."

"Mike, I'll let you see him whenever you want, so..." she began.

"I'll see him all the time," I said. "He'll only be down the hall. I'm not going anywhere. There's no way I could ever leave you OR my child."

"Mike, I'm...I'm still shocked by you saying that you love me," she said.

"That's old news," I said. "Everyone already knows that." Then I started hugging her and kissing her all the while holding her gently to let her know that she was precious to me. 

"Mike, we need to practice," she said. "After I have this baby, we're gonna' make another one." 

"We're gonna' need a bigger house," I said. The next seven and a half months were wonderful. Leanne and I had sex all the way up until she delivered. But sex wasn't all we did. We spent time together. We became truly a family. But once again Jeanne was the only problem. 

"It should be me," she hissed. "I should be the one carrying your baby. Do you know how angry I am watching you with her? Even while she got as big as a house, you stayed with her. You kissed her and rubbed her tummy and her feet. That hasn't happened through any of her other pregnancies. You were supposed to be mine."

When the time came to take Leanne to the hospital for Mike Jr. to be born, I was walking on eggshells. I was happy and excited, but scared at the same time. Being a father was a big responsibility. I got her to the hospital and they ushered her into a birthing room. Leanne demanded that I be allowed to be in the room with her. And after a lot of arguing she won. I changed into scrubs and nervously went into the small room. Once there, it was over in a second. Or it was for me. I passed out. 

When I awoke, it was over. I asked to see Leanne and my son. The nurse giggled a little and shook her head. 

Leanne looked exhausted. She looked as if she had just run a marathon. I know she isn't a beautiful woman. All of my friends thought of her as being barely a step above a trailer park whore. But at that moment, she was beautiful to me. And I began to have thoughts about our future. 

"Are you disappointed?" she asked. 

"About what, Honey," I asked.

"Honey, Mike Jr. Is a girl," she smiled. "We're going to need a different name."

We named her Alyssa after my mother and to me she was the most beautiful thing on earth.

It took a bit over a month before Leanne was ready to have sex again. She'd been giving me hand jobs and blowjobs until then. One of the wildest things she did was to suck my dick in her hospital room with the nurses just outside of the room.

"I know it's not as tight as it was," she said the first night that we actually had intercourse. 

"Shh," I told her. "It's not the size, Sweetie. It's the way you move it. And I love that." 

I knew what I had to do, but something inside of me hesitated. And we got so busy living life and taking care of the baby that it was a full six months after Allie was born, that I got off my ass and bought Leanne a ring. 

I wanted more than anything else, for us all to be a family. Nothing pulls people together like a shared secret, so I showed the ring to Jeanne to ask her opinion. 

Her reaction wasn't what I expected. "Take it the fuck back," she said quietly. There were tears streaming down her cheeks. "You don't have to marry her, dummy. You're supposed to marry me. Again I just felt odd. It felt like Jeanne was telling the truth. So, I waited and thought about it again. I went over it in my mind and every bit of logic I had told me that I should marry the mother of my child.

So, one Wednesday afternoon I got a large bouquet of flowers and headed home very early. All of the kids were in school and Jeanne was off somewhere. The house was deserted. I looked in Allie's crib and she was asleep. The connection between my daughter and me was there from the moment I first saw her, but that afternoon I had business with her mother. 

As I turned to leave Allie's room, I heard the springs on our bed squeaking. I thought that Leanne was flipping the mattress or something until I opened the door and looked upon horror. 

Leanne was in our...actually HER bed fucking both of our adjacent neighbors. 

"Ooh baby, that's the best," she moaned as Hal Jordan, the nearly fifty year old guy who lived next door to us stuffed his dick up her ass. She was slamming her ass back against him the same way she did to me. She actually used the same phrases as he fucked her that she did with me. 

At the same time, she was licking the head of Kyle Raynor's dick like it was an ice cream cone. Kyle screwed his face up and shot off in all over her face. His sperm ran down her chin and dripped onto the bed as she continued forcing her ass against Hal. 

I stood there, feeling like a fool. Everything my crew told me about women like her came back to me. My anger filled me from my toes to the top of my head. At first they didn't notice me and even after they did, it took a while for their brains to register the possible danger inherent in the situation. The first sound I remember was the sound of the flowers dropping from my nerveless fingers. Then I remember the wet squishy sound as Leanne and Hal's bodies continued slapping together obscenely.

Then time started moving at normal speed again. "Oh shit," screamed Kyle. 

"Mike, noooo!" screamed Leanne. But it was too late. Kyle jumped off of the bed and tried to run into the attached bathroom to hide or to get dressed. I was on him in a second. I was enraged. I caught Kyle before he crossed the room. His back was to me but I was a madman. My dreams of a home and a family were ruined. I tried to kick him in the nuts but his back was to me. The angle was slight off. 

Kyle was older and smaller than I am. The steel toe of my city mandated safety shoes slammed into the general area of his crotch. I did bruise his nuts, but far more seriously I shattered his Ischial tuberosity. Kyle let out one long scream and fainted from the pain. 

I was a madman and I saw Hal. His dick was wet and slick with a mixture of his and Leanne's juices. I wanted him dead. He stepped off of the bed cautiously. He held his hands up in front of him. "Mike, there's no need to over react here," he said, keeping his voice soft and calming. Behind his back he was trying to lift the bedroom window. 

"Mike, baby, don't hurt him," said Leanne. Seeing that I was distracted by Leanne, Hal raised the window. My rage overwhelmed my brain and my reflexes took over. In my mind I was back on the football field. I was doing my job. I went after the quarterback. I slammed into Hal with a degree of ferocity that I had never managed when I did play football. All of my hatred and frustration resided in that charge. I knocked Hal through the window. Both the glass pane and the window frame shattered under the onslaught. Hal was knocked through the window. He rolled towards and over the edge of the roof. The only thing saving me from a murder charge was the hedge below that broke his fall. 

Hal sprained his neck, broke three ribs and dislocated his shoulder. He also had numerous scratches, gashes and contusions from landing in the hedges. 

My rage was out of control as I turned to Leanne. She sat up naked on the bed. Her pubic hair was dripping with a slimy white substance and there was dried sperm caked between her legs as well. Her hair was plastered to the sides of her head with sweat. 

I don't know what I might have done to her, if something else hadn't pulled me out of my anger. 

"Mike, she isn't worth it," said Jeanne. Her voice, like Hal's was soft and calming. She spoke to me the way a mother talks to her child after a tantrum. "Mike, take me for a ride in your Mustang," she said. "You can teach me how to drive." 

She grabbed my arm and pulled me away. "Mike we have a lot to do," she said. In one hand, I still crushed the box with the ring in it. I didn't even think about it until Jeanne mentioned it. "Can I see it again?" she asked. She took it very carefully from my hand. She opened the box and carefully pulled out the ring. The diamond in it sparkled in the sun streaming through the shattered window frame. I could hear Hal screaming for help from below.

"I've changed my mind," said Jeanne. "Don't take it back. Give me a chance to earn this." 

"Shut up, Jeanne," spat Leanne. "Get your ass in your room, so Mike and I can talk."

"Mom it sounds kind of stupid for you to be there, talking about you and Mike, while you're naked with some other guy's cum dripping down your thighs," said Jeanne. 

She took my arm and we left the house. We just drove. We didn't talk. If silence can be considered a curative agent, I am living proof that it works. After about an hour or so of driving without making a sound, I started to feel better.

"I feel so stupid," I said. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

"Mike, why would you feel stupid?" she asked. "You didn't do anything wrong. This was all her. I tried to tell you that she wasn't the one for you. But to be truthful, she had me fooled too. I thought that she had stopped fucking those guys when you two got together."

I just looked at her. "You mean this has happened before?" I asked in shock. 

"Oh yeah, she used to fuck them all the time," said Jeanne. 

"But they're married," I said. "And she's friends with their wives."

"That doesn't mean shit to her," said Jeanne. "My mom is the kind of woman who can't say no to a dick. I think she's kind of a nympho. She can probably fuck them all day long and you all night and be fine."

Things got kind of quiet in the car after that. "If it's any consolation, you are kind of special to her. She hasn't ever let a guy move in with us since..."

"Yeah, I know," I snapped. "Since your father died."

"That asshole she called her husband wasn't my father," she spat. "And legally, he wasn't her husband. He was just some guy she shacked up with. He was an asshole. He was always looking at me and trying to grope me. And he isn't dead either. Do you know how she LOST him? They went to a Wal-Mart store. And while she was looking through the store, he was supposedly in the tool section. When she got done filling her cart up and looked for him she couldn't find him. She looked all over the store and had him paged. She went out to the parking lot and his truck was gone. While she shopped he'd gone back to the house and got all of his stuff and anything else he wanted to take and he took off. I guess he got tired of fucking her."

"I have to figure out what my next move is," I said. "I'll drop you off at home. I have some things I need to do." I didn't even pull into the driveway. I stopped in front of the house and pulled away as soon as she was out of the car. 

I went back to my old apartment building and rented another apartment. I called my job and got the next day off. I told them that I had to change apartments and needed the day to move. 

I waited until after the sun went down to go back to the house. I didn't want to have a loud confrontation with Leanne when the kids could hear it. It was after ten when I knocked on the door. 

"Where the hell have you been?" she asked angrily. "I've been calling you all day. Where's your key?" 

"Leanne, I don't want to argue with you. I just came to get my stuff," I said. I reached into my pocket and gave her the papers. She just put them down on the desk. 

"Mike, we need to talk," she said. "You're not going anywhere."

"I already got an apartment," I said. "Are the police looking for me?"

"Hal and Kyle went to different hospitals. Both of them are listed as accidents. Neither one of them could afford to have their wives find out what was going on, so no one is looking for you," she said "No one except me, that is."

"Look, Mike, I love you. I feel awful for what you saw. But there's no need for us to break up over this. We aren't married. You don't own me. I chose to give two of my friends some of MY pussy. It's the same pussy that I choose to give YOU every night and every morning and whenever you want it. I already told you that I love you, Mike. And that gives you priority, but it doesn't mean that you own it. We're not married. I never swore to only have sex with you so you need to re-evaluate your thinking. This is our first big problem, so I'll forgive you. But it took a lot of talking on MY part to fix what YOU messed up.

Kyle was in surgery for three hours to repair some bone thing in the bottom of his Pelvis that you destroyed. They say that even when he recovers fully it will always be painful for him to sit. You also came very close to rupturing his nuts. 

Mike you drove Hal through a window frame. You pushed him so hard that he fell off of the roof. If it hadn't been for the hedges he landed in, he could have been killed. He has injuries to his neck, back, ribs and shoulder. He also has so many cuts and bruises that they keep discovering new ones. Despite that he was out of the emergency room sooner than Kyle was out of surgery. They're keeping him in the hospital for a few days for observation and to make sure he doesn't also have a concussion because his speech is slurred. Neither of them is a threat to our relationship.

Mike, I'm thirty-eight years old and no one has ever fought over me before. I thought that if it happened I'd feel honored, or I special, but I just feel horrified and ashamed that two men were hurt that severely over something that doesn't belong to any of you. I had to come up with several lies for their wives and the hospitals. Luckily the people at the hospitals don't know that the two of them have any connection to each other. Luckily also that they were at two different hospitals.

I told the people at Kyle's hospital that he fell off of the roof and landed straddling a fence. They bought it because his injuries look like he did that. That's how hard you kicked him over a pussy that isn't yours. 

I told the people at the other hospital that Hal fell off of the roof and landed in the bushes. They also bought that. 




Lemonade and Pussy



I told their wives that we had a leak in the roof and you were at work. I called the two of them and they went up on the roof to see if the hole was big or just something that could be patched. I told them that while they were up there, one of them slipped and grabbed the other and they both fell. Hal landed in the bushes and Kyle hit something else. I still don't know what will happen, when and if the two of them recover, but we'll work that out."

I was too shocked to say anything. I couldn't believe this whore was trying to blame this all on me. I couldn't believe that she wanted me to believe that this was my fault. 

One of my old coaches once told me that the best defense was a good offense. I guess I had expected Leanne to beg me for forgiveness and to be sorry. Instead she had attacked, shifted the blame to me and turned the entire situation into a position where it seemed like I was the one who fucked up. I was too shocked to even speak. Luckily I didn't have to.

"There's nothing to work out, mother," said Jeanne. "You're too stupid for words. Mike has been living here for a year, mother. He pays the bills. He buys us food. He sleeps in your bed every night with you. The two of you have a baby together and all of the kids look at him like a step father. He plays with them. He takes them places. How many nights does he come home from work without some kind of treat or new game for them, mother?" Now Leanne was the one on the defensive.

"Mother, do your fuck buddies even care about your kids? They've lived next to us for more than ten years and I'll bet they don't even know the kids' names. All they do is use you, Mother. They use you like some kind of whore and you get nothing out of it. After they degrade you, they go home and spend their money and their time on women who won't do the kinds of things that you do for them. And mother you do have a child with Mike. Or have you forgotten that?

Leanne looked at the floor and tears formed in her eyes. But Jeanne wasn't finished. She continued to attack. 

"Mother, Mike loved you. Can you say that about the two assholes that you were fucking? And as far as him owning you...why the fuck do you think he was home in the middle of the day? I begged him not to do it, Mother. I didn't want to see him hurt. But he was stupid, Mother. Unlike those two guys that you keep defending, Mike loved you, Mother. He didn't just want to fuck you. He wanted...he wanted to own you, Mother, but in the nicest way possible." 

Jeanne reached into her back pocket and pulled out the ring that I had forgotten about. "Mother, Mike came home with a big dumb assed bouquet of flowers to take you it to lunch and ask you to marry him. Can you believe it? How fucking stupid is that?

I mean who marries a woman who's twelve years older than him? Who marries a woman with six kids and only one of them is his? You're right Mom, there's something wrong with the guy. No wonder you're standing there defending those two assholes over what Mike did when YOU broke his fucking heart." 

Leanne just stared at the ring and then started crying. Jeanne went for the jugular then. "But don't worry, Mother, you've hurt him too badly. When Mike moved in here, even with your welfare payments and food stamps you were on the verge of losing the house. Since he's been paying the bills you were able to use your welfare checks and the money Mike gave you for food to pay down the back taxes. Then you used the food stamps that you probably shouldn't be getting since Mike's income made us ineligible for them to buy food with. Mike probably didn't know how slick you are with money, did he?

But Mother, Mike is leaving. The best man you've ever had in your life is walking out the door and you stand there defending two scum bags that treated you like a whore. What are you going to do without his income, Mother?"

Leanne kept crying and couldn't face us. "I know what you're thinking mother. You're thinking you'll just file papers to increase your welfare payments and then sue Mike for child support since you do know what he does for a living and where he works. So you'd get paid double for Alyssa. It ain't gonna' happen, Mom, because Mike already filed to pay child support for Alyssa. That's what those papers are for. We made sure to cross reference them with the state. That means you are ineligible to get paid any more for Alyssa. And once we're in our new place, we may even take her away from you."

"What the fuck are you talking about Jeanne?" snapped Leanne. "Neither one of you is going anywhere. Mike isn't leaving for two reasons." Apparently Leanne had recovered her equilibrium and was trying to go back on the attack. She held up two thin fingers to make her point.

"Reason number one, is that baby he squirted into my belly. He watched her grow from a couple of cells into that squirming, screaming, shitting, little angel who's asleep in that room down the hall. So okay, he's a good guy. He registered to pay her child support. While you've been sitting on your ass texting those dumb assed girls you hang out with, you've missed a few things, Jeanne. He always checks on her first thing in the morning. When he calls me at lunch, the first thing out of his mouth is, "How's Allie?" Mike is pissed at me, but he won't leave his baby."

Jeanne deflated a bit. And immediately Leanne pressed her advantage. "The number one reason though, that Mike isn't leaving is me," she said. "He knows what he's getting from me. And he likes it. He'll go a couple of days...maybe a couple of weeks, but he'll be back in my bed before you know it."

Jeanne laughed at that. 

"Who do you think is going to replace me, little girl?" asked Leanne. She laughed even louder than Jeanne did. 

"It's certainly, not you, Jeanne. I'll admit that you're prettier than I am. And you're younger than I am, but Honey that's it. You have no idea what to do with what you have. It hasn't even been tested. And while you're trying to figure it out, Mike will get frustrated. He's a full grown man, Jeanne. He knows what he wants and how he wants it. You're going to end up with your feelings hurt and he'll still come back to me."

"You said it yourself Mother," spat Jeanne. "I'm younger, and I'm prettier than you are. I'm also fresher and less of a whore. And what I have is so much tighter that even if I don't know how to use it, he's going to enjoy it much more just because of how it's going to feel. And I'll learn what he likes, just like you had to, Mother. And I can offer him something that you can't. He will own what's between my legs, Mother. He'll never come home to find two guys in his bed with me. And if he wants a baby, we'll have one. Shit, we'll have five of our own."

"Jeanne, go to your room, now!" yelled Leanne. She stomped her foot. "You heard me young lady!"

"Mother, I'm nineteen, not nine," said Jeanne. "Mike, you gave her the papers. You listened to what she had to say. As you can see, she doesn't think she did anything wrong. She never once even said that she was sorry. There's nothing here for us. Let's go. I know that you're hurt and broken up, but we have to move on. I swear to you that you won't regret it. She has no power, here. As long as you pay your child support you can see Allie whenever you want to. So fuck her. Let's go."

Jeanne turned and walked out of the room. I took one last glance at Leanne and then followed Jeanne. I heard Leanne wailing as I left. I didn't pay her any attention, but I did stop in and check on Allie. She was in her crib, beginning to wake up. I picked her up. Her diaper needed changing. I sighed and did it. Then I carried her to Leanne's room.

"I changed her. She needs to be fed," I said. "I'll be by to see her...every day." 

"Mike, don't go," she said. "We can make this work." She looked at me and then at the baby in her arms. 

"I'll check on her in the morning and after work," I said. "But I'll call first. Just in case you have someone over. Of course it won't matter to me anymore if you do. I'll only be here to see Allie." 

The next few days were chaotic. I had to buy furniture because I'd left mine in my first apartment, when I moved in with Leanne. Jeanne insisted on going with me to pick out each piece. And every single thing had to fit with everything else. It was a nightmare. 

And we could only shop in the evenings since I had to work during the day. My schedule was pretty hectic. I woke up early every morning so I could go and see Allie before work. Then after work I checked on her again. Allie adjusted her tiny self to my schedule. It got so that she awoke when I came over. So I had to change her and feed her. That meant that Leanne started getting up early to try to tease me the way Jeanne used to.

"So are you and Jeanne doing it yet?" she asked me on the third morning. 

"That's none of your business," I snapped at her. 

"I'll take that as a no," she laughed. "Pull your pants down. I'll give you a blowjob to remind you of what you gave up."

"Leanne, I'm not a cheater," I said.

"Mike, it's only cheating if you get caught," she said. "Besides, by Jeanne's logic, you and I became a couple when we started sleeping together. Since you two aren't doing it, you aren't a couple yet. So there's no cheating. You can just come home and get all the pussy you want."

I kissed Allie and went to work.

The funny thing about it was that the only thing keeping me from having sex with Jeanne was me. She was nineteen years old. She was actually closer to my age than her mother was. We were living together. And we were definitely attracted to each other. Jeanne was also in full fledged tease mode every night. 

So when I got home that evening, I was a little bit out of it. Jeanne had cooked dinner for us. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. Jeanne had often been the one who took care of the kids while Leanne and I were otherwise occupied. Her ability to cook clean and do the laundry should have been expected. 

We sat down at the new dining room set that had just been delivered to what looked like an excellent dinner. I complemented her on it several times and she just smiled.

"So, Jeanne, why don't we try out that new flat screen TV after dinner?" I said. 

"I don't think so cowboy," she smiled. "I worked my ass off arranging furniture all day. Then I cooked your dinner. So I should get to decide what we try out next. And we're going to try out that new bedroom set."

"We ordered two bedroom sets," I said. "We got one for you and one for me. Which one came? I really could use a good night's sleep."

She just shook her head and laughed. "Mike, when we were at the furniture store, you were still heartbroken over my dumb assed mother. But you're a grown man and a strong one. You're tough enough that we can move on now. There's only one bedroom set. I cancelled the other one the day after we left the store."

I kept eating as she spoke. "Mike, my mom doesn't know everything. I don't have a lot of experience, but I'm not a virgin. I'm over eighteen and I've wanted you for a long time. Besides, I know what happened this morning. My brother Terry and I are extremely close. He tells me everything that goes on in that house. So, you, going to check on my baby sister and my mom trying to convince you to get some of her skanky old pussy is not going to fly." I was shocked then. 

"I'm glad you didn't give in to her, Honey," she said. "But I need to give you a reason not to." We didn't talk much after that. 

A short time later, I got into our new bed nervously. A few moments later, Jeanne came into the room. There was no prelude. She didn't try to tease me. She just shucked off the long T-shirt she'd been wearing. She had on only a pair of panties under it, and she stripped those off too and got into bed. 

"Mmmm," she sighed as she rolled over next to me. "No pressure, Honey. You don't have to do anything that you're not ready for. We can just cuddle tonight, okay?" 

"I can live with that," I said. 

"Mike, I just want you to be happy. I just want you to give us a try," she said. She wrapped her arm around me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Honey," she said.

As I closed my eyes, all I could think about was how firm, yet soft her skin was. And she smelled really good too. Jeanne was wrapped around me like a cheap suit. She had her face snuggled into my chest and was purring lightly. I began to think about how stupid I was. 

Like her mother Jeanne is small breasted. But hers were much firmer. And her hard little nipples were calling to me. I could feel her heat on my leg. I wanted her badly. I couldn't help putting my hand on her naked back. Even as I touched her she purred more loudly. She kicked one of her legs over mine and her crotch was open. She hooked that same leg behind mine putting us in a dangerous position. 

My dick was as hard as granite and only my boxers separated us. I wasn't sure how the hell she was able to sleep like that. 

"Mike," she mumbled. "You didn't kiss me goodnight."

"Yes, I did," I said.

"No, you didn't," she insisted. "I kissed you on your cheek and you didn't kiss me back."

I leaned down in the darkness to find her cheek and found her lips instead. Once we made contact, things got worse. She gently put her hands behind my head to extend the kiss. Her mouth opened and her tongue met mine. Then I noticed that she was very softly rubbing her pelvis against me. I wanted her too badly to say anything. 

I had to admit that kissing her was really nice. It wasn't remotely like what I did with her mom. "Mike, Honey, we are not going to do anything," she said. "I'm happy just being here like this, kissing you, okay?" 

"Mm Hm," I mumbled.

"But Mike, I'm kind of sensitive down there, you know!" she said. 

What a fucking tease, I thought. She gets me all worked up and then...

"Mike, Honey, could you take those shorts off, so they don't rub me raw?" she asked. 

I stripped off the shorts without another word and she moved back into the same position. Now there was nothing between us. My still granite hard dick was nestled against her warm, wet pussy and we started kissing again. 

She didn't taste like cigarettes either. My dick felt something incredibly warm and I realized that it was nestled in that warm place that we both wanted it in. The problem was that her warm place was a lot smaller and a lot tighter than her mom's. It wasn't going to just slide in.

"I'm sorry, Honey," she said. Then she rolled on top of me and impaled herself. There was no comparison between the two women. Jeanne was so much tighter and so much warmer. And when she started rolling her hips and gently stroking her pussy on me at the same time, it was like having my dick in a vise. It took work for her to move, because it was so tight. And we were soon sweating buckets. At the same time, every nerve in my body was firing. I wanted to cum so badly that it took everything I had to hold it back."

"Mike, Baby, I'm sorry," she whined. "I wanted to be so good for you. I tried. But it's so big. It's like there's a log in my pussy. I'm gonna...cuuuuuuummmmm!" Her legs, that had been hooked tightly behind my back released themselves and went slack. "Ooh," she moaned. And at that second, I realized that I didn't need to hold it anymore. I flooded her little pussy with all of the sperm that I'd been storing up since the last time I'd been with her mother. My balls that had become adjusted to letting go a couple of times a day at least, pumped her to overflowing.

"Mike, it's so warm. Oh shit, I'm gonna' cum again!" she screamed. Her voice was almost a whine. Her vagina seemed to be almost pulsing as she came. When she was done, she wrapped her arms around me again.

"I'm sorry, Honey," she said. "I know you didn't want to. But I wanted you so badly. It was sooo good. I feel so good right now. Don't hate me, okay?"

"Jeanne, I wanted it too," I confessed. "And that was really special."

"As good as my mom?" she asked. 

"Much better," I admitted. 

"Then, can we do it again?" she asked eagerly. And that was how I got started with Jeanne. Within the next few nights it became apparent that she was every bit her mother's daughter. What she didn't know, she learned quickly. And her body was much better than her mom's. Jeanne also had a much more pleasant personality. After a few short weeks, the only rival she had for my affections was her baby sister Allie. 

So just over a month after we'd moved in together, I was happy again. Unfortunately my happiness was cut short when I got to Leanne's house one afternoon for my second daily visit to my daughter.

"Your sperm is really potent, Mike," said Leanne. 

"I have to admit we made a beautiful baby," I said. "So it must be pretty good at that."

"That's not what I was talking about," she said sadly. "Our daughter is going to be her sister or brother's aunt."

"What are you whining about Leanne?" I asked.

"Jeanne called me this morning," she said. "It's the first time I've heard from my daughter since you stole her. She told me she was sick, so I had her come home. I promised her that she'd be back at your place before you got home. I took her to the doctor. She's pregnant Mike. I'm too God damned young to be a grandmother. Jeanne is too young to be a mother. You have to help me convince her to have it taken care of."

I almost slapped her. I kissed Allie and drove home as quickly as I could. I ran into the house and found her in the kitchen. 

Before she could say anything, I spoke to her. "Jeanne, do you still have that ring I was going to give your mother?"

"Yes, Mike, but we need to talk about..." she began. 

"Go, get it," I said. She shrugged her shoulders and went to get the ring. 

She came back. "Jeanne, I need to ask you something," I said. "Do you like this ring? Or can you find a better one?"

"I've always loved this ring," she said. "My mother never deserved it."

"Then put it on," I said.

"Mike, this is an engagement ring," she said. "Are you asking me to...?"

"Are you accepting?" I asked. 

"Oh, yes please," she said. 

For the rest of that night, we never left the bed. I was more tired that next morning than I had ever been with her mother. Jeanne may not have had her mother's lifetime of experience, but she was a quick learner. And what she lacked in technique, she more than made up in willingness to learn and enthusiasm. Jeanne had no limits. She would literally try anything I wanted. 

I should have been extremely happy. I was young. I had a great job and a nice home. Of course, I had my Mustang. I was engaged to a beautiful woman who clearly loved me. Maybe I was just greedy. Maybe Leanne had affected me more than I was ready to admit. But I had a number of problems that kept me from being truly happy.

First, there was Leanne. Maybe I was being a child, but that bitch had hurt me. She had pretty much gotten off Scott free after cheating on me. Sure, I had fucked up her finances a bit. And I had even gone as far as to call CPS on her a couple of times, which had caused her some grief. 

By beating their asses I had also cost her the services of her two fuck buddies, but I was sure she could, and probably had, already found replacements. I was also throwing in her face the fact that I was fucking the shit out of her daughter every night and had very quickly gotten her pregnant. But it just wasn't enough.

My second problem, was again probably just me, but although I was going to marry Jeanne and I loved fucking her. I didn't love her. Maybe things between us had moved too quickly. Maybe I was still getting over my feelings of hurt after what had happened with her mother. Maybe I just didn't want to hurt Jeanne, but the fact was that I didn't love her. 

Jeanne was so happy she was about to burst. She had made up with her mother and the two of them were planning the biggest wedding I could afford. The poor girl was walking around on cloud nine. I am an honorable man if not an honest one. I would do the right thing and I figured that maybe in time I would come to love Jeanne. I would certainly never leave our baby. But there was a nasty little itch in the back of my head every time I crawled between Jeanne's legs. 




Lemonade and Pussy



The third part of my problem was Allie. I hated having to drive to another place to see my baby. I hated her living with Leanne instead of with me where she belonged. To Leanne, Allie was a source of income. Allie was just one of a fucking army of kids to Leanne. To me Allie was my whole world. I reveled in every new accomplishment she made. I was the one who decided that since Leanne was so busy with everything else that maybe Allie should be in daycare. After the third CPS visit determined that though Leanne's household was okay for the older kids, Allie needed more hands on parenting. Leanne blamed me for taking Jeanne away from the house. She finally agreed to put Allie in daycare if I'd pay half.

I ended up picking a place that Leanne thought was far too expensive. I told her that I'd pay all of it. In my mind the ultimate revenge would be moving Allie in with Jeanne and me after we got married. That would be the final slap in Leanne's face. 

I also have to admit here, that I am not a perfect person. I'm a man who believes in justice. If someone shits on me, I'm gonna' shit back on them and I'm gonna' shit until my bowels are empty. So as happy or unhappy as I was, when the time for more revenge came, I took it. 

One evening, just as I left Leanne's house, after dropping Allie off from daycare, I heard someone calling me. I looked around and saw Hal's wife Deidre. She was not a pretty woman. She had kind of a mannish face and was kind of plump but with almost no curves. I like all kinds of women. Each type has advantages. Most big women have curves and larger proportions. Deidre had nothing. Despite that, she was one of the nicest ladies I had ever met, so I went to talk to her.

"Mike, I need a favor," she said. "Mike, it took me a while to find out what really happened to my husband and why. But I know now." I turned to walk away.

"Let it go Deidre," I said. "He deserved what I did to him. I'm not going to apologize and he waited too long to press any charges. Besides he'll come out looking far worse than I do. Not many people want to be friends with a guy who's married but fucks his friends' wives."

"Wait, Mike, you don't understand," she said. She walked back over to me. "You called her your wife. You really did love that backstabbing whore didn't you? Well, if it's any consolation, I've heard her whining about losing you too. And she hates the fact that you took Jeanne from her. She was really pissed when you got Jeanne pregnant. Up until then she always thought she'd get you back." She patted me on the shoulder.

"Mike, I need some revenge against my husband too. I'm not going to leave him or anything like that. Why should I suffer? But I need to make him hurt the way I hurt when I heard about what he did. So tomorrow, when you bring your adorable baby home, I need you to stop by our house, okay?"

I had no idea what she'd planned and I'm glad because I probably wouldn't have done it. I was sure that Jeanne wouldn't have let me if she'd known. So after I dropped Allie off the next day I walked nervously up to Hal and Deidre's porch. Deidre met me before I even knocked. She opened the door wearing a robe with only a pair of granny panties under it. I pretended not to notice.

She led me towards a bedroom and I was immediately on alert. "Deidre, you're a nice lady. Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked.

"Hell yeah," she said. 

"You do know that things like this always come out eventually, right? What are you going to do if Hal finds out?" I asked.

"The asshole is going to find out," she hissed. "And it's going to be soon. You let me worry about him finding out." 

I guess I was shocked by her attitude. But the chance to stick it to Hal the way he had done me was really appealing. So much so, that I felt my dick hardening. It lasted all of five seconds as I walked into the bedroom and saw Hal sitting there in his wheelchair, scowling. 

Deidre acted as if she didn't see him. She dropped to her knees and pulled my pants down around my ankles. She licked my dick staring from the base all the way up to the tip. Then she lowered her mouth over it and started sucking just the head and then going further down. It was nowhere near as good as Jeanne gave me every night and every morning, but the look on Hal's face was priceless. 

He was so pissed that he started cursing at her. "God damn it Deidre. We've been married for twenty years and you've never given me a...dammit," he said. I didn't want to waste the opportunity so I stopped Deidre before I came. Then I had her lay back on the bed right next to Hal's chair and mounted her. I banged her like a drum and she loved every second of it. She squealed and screamed and moaned that I was tearing her apart." She got up with semen running down her legs and sucked me clean right in front of him. Hal was almost in tears.

"You should have at least made him wear a condom," he whined.

"Did you wear one with that slut next door?" she asked. "Oh God, Hal; I can barely stand up. He has me all weak in the knees. He must've put a gallon of cum in me. My legs feel like jelly and my belly is so warm. We're almost done, Hal. You remember this, the next time you decide to cheat on me."

"Mike, I need one more favor, if you could," she said. Then she turned her wrinkled old butt towards me and bent over the edge of her bed. "Mike, I want you to take my other hole." I thought Hal was going to have a stroke. I realized then that he had never done that with his wife either. 

A few minutes later after lubing her up, she screamed for Hal. "Hal, it hurts. It hurts so badly. Hold my hand. Tell him to take it easy. Tell him Hal," she screamed.

"Mike, she wants you to take it easy," he spat as if every word was cut from his flesh. A few minutes later I was all the way inside of her and she was beginning to enjoy it. She started pushing her old butt back against me and yelping each time I got all the way in. 

"Ooh, this is so nasty, Hal," she gushed. "Tell him to do it harder." When I unloaded in Deidre's ass and gently pulled my dick free, Hal was crying like a baby. 

Deidre was still not finished with him though. She grabbed my dick and got ready to lick it clean again. 

"No Deidre, please don't do that?" he yelled. "It was in your..."

"Okay, Hal, despite you cheating on me for years and the fact that I'm only doing this once, I'm going to give you some say in what happens here. Someone is going to suck Mike's dick. The question is who. If you don't want me to do it, then you have to."

Hal's face turned noticeably green.

"So are you going to do it?" she asked. He quickly shook his head.

"Do you want me to do it?" He grudgingly nodded his head once.

"Hal I'm not sure," she said. "I think it would be better if you told me what you want." She looked at him as if she was waiting for his answer.

"I...I...want you to suck his dick," he mumbled. And she did. Then she went over to Hal and puckered up as if she was going to kiss him. Hal threw up all over the floor. I got dressed. I was about to leave when she grabbed my arm gently.

"Hal, I hope you've learned your lesson, Honey," she said gently. "You got off easy. Next time you'll be the one sucking dicks"

"How?" he sobbed. "How was this easy?" Hal was still crying.

"Mike is a good guy," she said. "He's not going to go out and tell anyone about this. So only the three of us will ever know. My revenge is over. I don't care how many times you cheated on me. We have a clean slate from this moment on. There will be no further revenge between the three of us. Do we all agree?"

"I do," I said.

"Mike, I never meant to hurt you," Hal blubbered. "Since this is all in the open, I want you to know that I was fucking Leanne since before she ever met you. We just never stopped. She was screwing half of the guys in the neighborhood. Don't get upset man, but she's a whore. I really thought you were just fucking her like the rest of us, I didn't realize that you had any feelings for her until..."

"Hal, next time you cheat on me, I'm going to do a gangbang on the front porch with those guys you play golf with," said Deidre. "You're invited too, Mike."

I hate to admit it, but I did feel better. On the way out Deidre had told me that she'd give my phone number to Kyle's wife. 

About a month later though, my world shattered. I had come home early to take Jeanne to look at a church that we were considering for the wedding. Calm down it's not what you think. She was sitting on the porch waiting for me. She looked as pretty as a picture with her belly just starting to swell. It was all I could do to get her to the church. She was as usual more interested in going to bed than going to church. But we went to the church and it was a beautiful place. It was perfect for us until we started asking about the price. 

It was at least 50 percent more expensive than the other churches we had looked at and it was one of the smallest. I'm sure that preacher is going to hell for the way he overcharged us and added all kinds of costs and fees on top of the price. But my Jeannie wanted the church so we got it. And when I dropped her off at home she was pawing at me again. I promised her an all-nighter when I got home and she went upstairs to have a nap. 

Before I got back in the car, I decided I grab a sandwich since I had missed lunch. I heard Jeanne talking to someone. Okay, I'm an asshole. I still didn't trust her. What her mother had done to me had pretty much made me suspicious of everything and everyone.

I felt like an even bigger asshole when I picked up the phone in the kitchen and discovered that she was talking to her mother about the church. I felt like shit eavesdropping on them, but I wanted to hear how Leanne reacted. I guess I wanted her to feel pain over what she could have had but was giving up.

For a while they talked about the church and the wedding and I found out some things that pissed me off. But after about five minutes of their talking I went into shock. "Mom, I'm still a little bit worried that Mike will find out that the baby isn't his," said Jeanne.

"Honey, men are all stupid," quipped Leanne. "You just keep on fucking him and he'll be so happy he won't care. When everyone at the hospital starts telling him that the baby looks just like him, he'll be sure it's his. Maybe Mike is just extra stupid. I mean he still thinks that Allie is his. Shit, I don't even know who her father is. The only way I know it isn't Mike is because I had taken one of those home pregnancy tests just hours before I met Mike and I was already pregnant. He didn't seem to notice that the baby came early. He loves that kid though. What kind of idiot just steps up and volunteers to pay for child support for some other guy's kid. And he pays more for her day care than I pay for the fucking mortgage."

"Mom, I just have a bad feeling about this," said Jeanne. "He's a really good guy. This is bad Karma."

"Jeanne, bad Karma was you fucking that dumb assed Ronnie without a rubber. I told you a million times that Ronnie is a loser. He's never had a job. He has no future and if you had stuck with him you wouldn't have one either."

"But Mom, Ronnie loves me," whined Jeanne. 

"What Ronnie loves is your tight little pussy," spat Leanne. "And you can continue to fuck him whenever you want. Just make sure that Mike is happy. And make sure that whenever Mike gives you any money that I get my cut. How much am I going to get from the church?"

It took everything I had to stay calm and hang up the phone quietly, so they wouldn't realize that I'd been there. I went back to work. I buried myself in work that afternoon. And what I did while I worked was thought. I thought about what a fool I was. When I looked at my life, I realized that most of what I thought I had wasn't real. I had always thought of myself as an intelligent man. I have a college degree and a great job. But two trailer park whores had taken me to school. Every step I took, they were always a step ahead of me.

Deep down inside, most of the things I'd done for and with Jeanne had only been to get back at Leanne. I had loved Leanne with all of my heart and she had just used me. Then I realized that I sounded like a bitch. I wasn't the kind of guy who went around whining, when things didn't go his way. Those bitches had fucked with the bull, they were getting the horns. Two cunts, two horns, the math seemed to work. All I had to figure out was how and when. I also needed to know what I intended to do afterwards. 

One thing I needed to do was to make sure that they didn't know what they had coming. A good thing was that although it was hard to believe, neither one of them had a cell phone. I guess I thought that in this day and age every single person had one but there were still people who didn't. Jeanne had been bugging me to get her an iPhone like mine. It was a good thing that I hadn't done it yet. 

I stopped off at an electronic store that sold several items for recording phone conversations. I got everything I needed. I was late getting to the daycare center. It was the first time I'd ever been late so Mrs. Crenshaw, the woman who managed the place, just laughed about how upset I was about it. 

She took me into her office to talk to me about Allie. "Mike, I know you're a great dad, but Allie is a little behind where she should be at her age. I know that you don't live with her mother anymore and I seriously think that's part of the problem. I'm required by the state to report any evidence of neglect." Even as she started to tell me her suspicions, I got nervous. 

"Mike, don't worry about this," she said. "This might be a good thing for you. While she was checking on a couple of my other kids, I mentioned Allie to a friend of mine who works for CPS. Did you know that several people, including a couple of teachers, have made inquiries into the decline in the environment of your daughter's home? If the children are considered to be endangered, they can be placed in the home of another close relative. If something does happen. You might end up with custody of your daughter. Wouldn't that be great?"

That was the moment I broke down. Mrs. Crenshaw went into shock. She closed the door to her office and called one of her assistants. She told the woman to feed Allie and get her ready, but she wouldn't be leaving for a half hour or so. Then she turned back to me.

"Okay, Mike, what's going on?" she asked. I told her everything. Starting from when I first met Leanne and finishing up with what I'd found out that afternoon. As she listened to me, her eyes were huge. I wasn't sure that she was even breathing. After I got done, she just stared at me. 

"You poor man," she said. "Do you know who her sperm donor is?" 

"I'm not sure that Leanne even knows who Allie's father is. I signed her birth certificate and I'm listed as..."

"Mike I asked you who got Leanne pregnant," she said. "We already know who her father is. That's in the records."

"Who is it?" I asked. 

"You, Mike," she said. "Do you love that little girl?"

"More than anything," I said.

"That's good enough for me," she said. A few minutes later I went to get Allie so I could take her home. 

She reached for me as soon as she saw me. "Da daaaaaa!" she said loudly. 

"See what I mean," said Mrs. Crenshaw. "She only sees you. No one else matters to that little girl. We take care of her all day long, but we cease to matter when you're here."

So another aspect of my revenge was screwed up. Even though I knew that Allie wasn't mine. I was trapped. I could no more abandon that little girl than I could cut off my own head. 

When I got to Leanne's place, she hadn't even noticed how late we were. I don't think she cared. The kids were running around, doing whatever they wanted. Unlike when I lived there, they looked dirty and unkempt. They gathered around to talk to me the way they always did. 

I gave Terry some money to buy McDonald's for all of the kids. 

"Oh, hey Mike," said Leanne. "You and I need to have a talk. This place is going to hell. I'm going to need some help. I need you to hire me a housekeeper and baby sitter."

"Leanne, you don't have a job," I said. "So you have nothing to do all day except clean the house and take care of Allie."

"Look Mike, I know she's my daughter, but Jeanne has to come second in your life. Jeanne is just someone for you to fuck. Allie is your daughter. You can't let her be taken away from us because those assholes at CPS are getting their panties in a bunch. If you can think up a better plan, let me know."

"Maybe Allie could live with Jeanne and me?" I said jokingly. 

"As long as I still get my child support, I don't care," she said. "But you'd better clear that with your fiancé first. She might get a little jealous where you're concerned. She won't even talk about letting me fuck you once in a while. She gets mad every time I mention it. And you just act stupid about that baby, Mike. I don't think Jeanne is going to want to play second fiddle to a one year old in her own house. Especially, since she's carrying your next baby now. And after that child is born, there's bound to be a conflict. I think Allie is better off here. But if you can work it out, it's fine with me. If you want a couple of the other ones, we can talk about that too."

"You're right Leanne," I said. "Maybe I can find a cheaper daycare center and give you the money we save. You could put it towards your house keeper."

"Now you're talking, Mike," she smiled. "Don't tell Jeanne about this conversation, okay?"

When I got home, Jeanne came running over to me the way she always did. I watched her every movement differently now. I began to wonder about her motive for everything she did. I loved it when she ran to me as if she had missed me and couldn't wait to see me. But I began to question her sincerity. Did women even do things like that anymore? None of my friends' wives or girlfriends did it. Most of them did still give their spouses a peck, but that whole running through the house screaming probably went out with the fifties. The only other person I knew who did that...was Leanne.

Then I noticed that Jeanne was staring at me. "What's wrong, Mike?" She asked. The way she was looking at me wasn't the way a nineteen year old trailer park airhead looks at the man of her dreams. It was calculating and cold.

"I spoke to Leanne today," I said. "We have an issue. And since we're going to be married soon, I need you to participate in the decision making process." She relaxed and her expression went back to the nineteen year-old. She took my hand and smiled as she looked at me.

"Is this a "you and me," issue or a "you and my mom issue?" she asked.

"It's an issue for the four of us," I said. I told her about the problems with Allie even though I had promised Leanne that I wouldn't. Her reaction told me that she had already known about it. Leanne had probably called her and told her what to say while I was driving home. I was even more certain that Leanne was running my life by remote control through her daughter.

Jeanne's words sounded as if they'd come straight from Leanne's mouth.

"Wow, I'm glad we got that settled," I said. Then I walked a circle around Jeanne. 

"What are you doing, Honey?" she asked. 

"I'm just wondering why you have all of those clothes on," I said. "I seem to remember something about an all-nighter."

Jeanne immediately stepped out of her jeans and pulled her panties down. The nipples capping her tiny breasts hardened as if turned on like a light switch.

"No!" I said. "I intend to lick every inch of that gorgeous little body of yours. So go take a shower and make it soft for me. She giggled like a little girl and ran up the stairs.

The real reason I wanted her to take a shower was so I could install the recorder on the phone. 




Lemonade and Pussy



Mike had joined the party with Rick and was scooped up by Mae. Her head bobbed on one cock and then the other alternating between Skip's monster and Mike's cock. Soon we had all four of the men moaning in time with our attentions to their cocks. After a couple minutes I decided it was time to sample another cock. I released Ray's cock from my grip, giving it a kiss on the head and reached out for the next cock in the circle, which happened to be Mike's. Mae relinquished her claim to Mike and stuffed Ray's dick into her mouth.

I took Mike's cock deep into my mouth, swirling my tongue around his length. I then moved back to Rick and sucked on him. I started to alternate quickly between the two cocks sucking each only once before moving to the other, all the while massaging their balls. I felt Mike's balls tighten, and his hips twitched. I realized that he was not going to last much longer. But as the youngest, he most likely had the least experience. I turned my full attention to Mike's cock, leaving only my hand stroking the length of Rick's. I increased my pace on Mike, almost fucking his hard cock with my face. I took as much of him as I could with each thrust, almost gagging more then once. His hips were now bucking into me, his breathing ragged. With a final grunt he shot his load into my mouth. It slammed into the back of my throat, and slide down, with out me even having to swallow. I let some of his length escape my mouth so that I could concentrate on sucking the head of his cock. "Oh fuck," he gasped. His wilting cock slid from my mouth as I swallowed the last of his cum.

Skip looked over at Mike, "Christ you blew your load already? Well you might as well make your self useful and get one of these pussy's ready to fuck, 'cause I'm ready to fuck some pussy."

I was so wet, that I didn't think that I would need to be eaten to get ready to fuck, but I was also never one to turn down a good pussy licking, though once again Mae beat me to the punch. She jumped up, letting Skip's hard cock escape her mouth, and moved to a pile of lumber in the corner of the room, that had an old moving blanket discarded a top it. Opening up the blanket, she laid down on top of the lumber, her legs spread to reveal a glistening pussy. Mike wasted no time climbing between her legs and starting to lap at her sodden gash. Skip straddled Mae and the lumber and lowered his cock into her mouth. Mae's lips wrapped around his head, and sucked it into her warm mouth.

Abandoned by Mae, Ray reoriented his cock to point at me. I reached for it as I pulled Rick's cock from my mouth. Looking up into their faces I asked, "So which one of you boys wants to fuck me first?"

They both stripped off their shirts and laid them on the floor, giving me a mostly clean spot to lie. I dropped to my hands and knees, ass pointed into the air. "Well don't just stand there," I called, "Somebody fuck me."

Ray was the quicker of the two, and won the race to my pussy. Standing behind me he lowered himself so that the tip of his cock was poised at my entrance. He let just the tip slid in, teasing me, and slid it up and down my opening, coating it with my juices. My pussy was sopping wet, and as he thrust into me, he slid easily in. I felt his balls smack against me, I cried out in pleasure at the feeling of his cock filling my pussy. I had been craving cock since I awoke this morning.

"Oh God, that's big," Mae screamed out as Skip pushed his massive cock into her pussy. "Oh, yes. Fuck my pussy with your giant fucking cock." I saw that Mike's cock had regained its former size, as he moved to stuff it into Mae's wanting mouth. 

Ray established his rhythm sliding in and out of my pussy. Rick dropped to his knees in front of me and held his cock to my face. With out hesitation I leaned forward taking his length into my mouth. He was thick, but in this position I could almost deep throat him. I started to rock back and forth between the two men, trying to match Ray's rhythm; fucking one with my mouth and one with my pussy.

With Rick in front of me I could no longer see Mae, but I could hear her moaning around whoever's cock was in her mouth at the moment. Ray increased his pace, his cock driving deeper into me with each thrust, while his balls slapped my clit. I rammed myself back to meet him. As I rocked forward, the length of Rick's cock entered my mouth. He was also thrusting at me now, so that his cock almost escaped my mouth as Ray's was buried deep in my pussy. I was literally being fucked from both directions; it was and incredible sensation. 

Mae's muted screams filled the room. I knew from the sounds she was making that she was cumming on Skip's enormous cock. "Ooooooohhh, fffffuuuuuuuuuuuuck," she moaned. 

Ray continued to fuck me hard, his cock slamming into me with each trust. I tried to cry out in pleasure, but found my mouth full with Rick's cock. I could feel my climax starting to build inside me. Ray's cock was stoking a fire deep in my pussy. It did not take much of the double cock treatment before I came. My pussy tightened on Ray's cock as my body went rigid. Rick continued to pump into my mouth as I moaned around his thick shaft, my mouth wide. I closed my lips around the shaft in my mouth to suck its length as it escaped my lips on each stroke.

I heard a gasp and a grunt from behind me, and then felt Ray's cum fill my pussy. "Fuck," he gasped.

Ray's rhythm slowed, and I could feel his cum starting to ooze from my pussy, around the edge of his trusting shaft. I tried to suck Rick's cock into my mouth. I had been dreaming of cock all day, and now had two for my pleasure. With my pussy's thirst for cock momentarily satisfied, it was my mouth that craved the taste of cum again. 

Rick however seemed to have something else in mind and pulled his cock from my mouth. "All right, I want a go with that pussy," Rick declared.

Ray pumped into me twice more, and then moved back, his shaft sliding from my pussy, making room for Rick, who wasted little time in pushing his cock into my cum filled pussy. He slid easily into my slick opening, despite being thicker then Ray, and started to establish a steady pumping rhythm. I moaned with pleasure with each trust of his hard cock.

"Oh, fuck that feels good. Fuck me Rick. Fuck me with your big fucking cock."

Ray moved to the side to watch the scene as it played out in front of him. Skip was continuing to pound into Mae's pussy, bringing her close to another orgasm. Mike had just cum a second time his milky cream dripping from Mae's chin. Her tongue tried to pull the stray drops back to her mouth. I turned to Ray, "Bring that cock of yours over here, I'll get it hard again in no time."

Ray stoked his cock, as he moved back toward me. I slurped his limp cock into my mouth, and started to suck it, running my tongue around his head. I could taste a wonderful mix of his cum mingled with my own. This tasty tease only increased my need to taste a full load of his seed. I started to suck his cock more vigorously, and could feel his member thickening in my mouth.

"FUCK, OH FUCK. Fuck. Fuck," cried Mae. "OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH, FFFFUUUUUUUCCK." She seemed to be really enjoying Skip's massive cock.

Ray's cock had regained its full strength and he began to fuck my mouth. Once again I was being rocked between two cocks. I was going to have to suggest this to Kevin as I was really enjoying the dual attentions.

"Move over Rick, I want to fuck this pussy now," I heard Skip declare behind me. "You can fuck the Asian chick. She's got a nice tight cunt."

Rick's cock quickly slid from my pussy, though Ray continued to fuck my mouth. I wanted to tell Skip to hurry up and get his cock into my pussy, Rick's fucking had set my loins on fire, but I was unable to get out a single syllable as Ray pounded my open mouth. 

"Don't just stand there, get that fucking cock in my pussy," I heard Mae say from across the room. Amen, sister, I thought.

Luckily Skip spent little time entering me. His cock was huge, though he was not enormous in width, he was a little larger then Rick, and I felt my pussy stretching to accommodate him. Though it was his length that really took my breath away, I could feel the tip of his member just brushing my cervix as he reached his hilt. Skip pulled his shaft back out and thrust into me again. He quickly found his pace, and started to pound into me in time with Ray's fucking of my mouth. This time I was being speared from both ends simultaneously. I gasped with each thrust as he bottomed out inside me. Despite the mild discomfort of his length, Skip's cock felt incredible inside my pussy, and I could already fell my next orgasm starting to build.

As I became more comfortable with length of Skip's shaft sliding in and out of me, I concentrated more attention on Ray's cock. I swirled my tongue around his head as he pushed it into my mouth on each thrust, and sucked gently on his shaft as he pulled it back out. 

I listened to the sounds of Mae's moans as Rick filled her with his thick cock. It sounded as though she was about to cum yet again, when I began to realize that both of the cock's pumping me were starting to thicken and pulse with the anticipation of release. Ray's was the first to go. "I'm gonna fucking cum," he cried, an instant before the first of his seed shot into the back of my throat. I gagged slightly as he was shoving his cock into my mouth full with his cum, making it impossible for me to swallow. He was on his back stroke when the second salvo was released, landing on my lower lip and chin. I managed to just swallow his first load, when he thrust into my mouth again, releasing his third thick rope of cum. His tasty cream filled my mouth as he pulled from my mouth for good, stroking his cock to coax the last of his cum on to my face. I grabbed hold of his shaft and forced his member back into my mouth so that I could suck the last drops of his cum from his wilting member.

Just as I was sucking the last of Ray's cum from his cock I heard Rick cry out that he was about to cum. I saw Mae from the corner of my eye pull Rick's cock from her pussy and stuff it into her mouth. His cock erupted spewing his load into her mouth, and across her face.

Skip pulled his cock out of me as he declared, "Alright you two I'm about to cum, gather 'round so you can taste a real treat."

It took me no time to be on my knees mouth open under Skip's shaft, as he stroked it, summoning his cum out of his balls. Mae was soon next to me, eagerly awaiting Skip's cream. No sooner had she opened her mouth then the first of his thick ropes dropped onto my cheek. He directed his shaft toward Mae as his next stream shot from the end of his cock. Soon we were both covered with Skip's thick cream. I managed to catch some of his seed in my mouth, though most of it missed and landed on my face, in my hair, on my shoulders, and on my tits. Mae was similarly bedecked with cum.

Just as I thought that we had fully satisfied the group of contractors working on my neighbor's house, Mike came up in front of us, stroking his freshly erect shaft. I took his cock from him and sucked it into my mouth. My tongue swirled around his head, and it slid in and out of my mouth. I then handed it to Mae, and let her suck the rigid member a few times. I took Mike's balls into my hand squeezing and caressing them as Mae sucked on his shaft. We quickly got him on the verge of his climax. Mae's head was bobbing on his cock when I heard him exclaim, "Oh, shit." 

I saw a little of his cum ooze around the corners of Mae's mouth, though her tongue quickly gathered up any loose drops of his cum, after she had released his cock from her grasp. She was able to easily handle the load that Mike had pumped into her mouth. With a single swallow his cum was gone. Mae pulled his shaft from her mouth, licked the length of his shaft, kissed the tip and released it.

I put my hand on the back of Mae's neck and pulled her toward me. My tongue slipped into her mouth as our lips met. Mae's lips quickly gave way, and she returned my kiss deeply. I sucked on her tongue as she withdrew it from my mouth. As we broke our kiss, I shifted so that I could lick the thick ropes of cum from Mae's face. I snaked my tongue over her cheek and alongside her nose, sucking the still warm cum into my mouth. I could fell Mae's lips kissing my chin, where I knew a large dollop of cum had been clinging. Each with a mouth full of fresh cum our lips returned to each other. Our tongues mingled sharing their treasures. I swallowed what was in my mouth when we broke the kiss.

"I think that we need to go a clean up," I said to Mae with a wink. I had a feeling that the clean up was going to be almost as much fun as the getting dirty had been.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," she responded, snagging a drop of cum from my left nipple and sucking it into her mouth.

"Thank you boys for a delightful afternoon," I said as Mae and I rose to our feet, preparing to leave.

All four of the men were in the process of finding their cloths and trying to put them back on. They all waved and thanked us for the lemonade as we collected the glasses and headed back to my house.

"Alright, boys, back to work," we heard Skip call as we walked out the door. I took Mae by the hand as we made our way from our neighbor's house, cum still dripping from our chins and breasts. Mae and I walked hand in hand across my yard and into my house. 

"I think that we need to take a bath a clean ourselves up," I said as I had placed the empty glasses in the sink.

I turned form the sink and found myself enveloped in Mae's arms, her lips planting soft kisses around my face, and down onto my neck, sucking up and stray drops of cum along the way. I wrapped my arms around her, my hands sliding down to her ass. 

"I've got a better idea on how we can get clean," Mae murmured as she passed by my left ear. "I'm going to lick every last inch of your body and I won't stop until I have cleaned every last drop of cum from you as well as inside you."

"I hope that is a promise," I responded, while I grabbed her gorgeous round ass starting to softly massage it, as she continued to lick cum from my body. I had been planning on licking Mae clean once we were upstairs, but I guess she was not able to wait that long. I was certainly not going to complain.

My hands continued to caress Mae's skin, pulling her ass checks apart and letting my hand slide down between her cheeks. I brushed against the bottom her pussy, and could feel where drops of her juices were starting to run down her legs. Mae grabbed my right breast in her hand, squeezing it gently as her lips sucked up a string of cum from the top of my tit. Her lips continued to brush down to my nipple, which she sucked on like a starving infant. I moaned as she took my nipple into her mouth, her tongue flicking across it. I slid one of my hands around to her pussy, and started to rub her soaking gash. This seemed to only make her suck harder. I dipped a finger into her entrance, she was hotter then I have ever felt her, I was not sure how long I could wait to eat her. I decided that to appease myself I would lick some of the large drops of cum from Mae's shoulders and arms, the only parts of her body I could get my tongue to at the moment. I could not longer identify the owner of the cum, nor did I care, it was already cold, but still it tasted great.

Mae switched to my other breast, sucking at my nipple; it almost felt as thought she was trying to swallow my tit. She started to alternate between my tits, kissing and sucking one and then the other into her mouth. She would only interrupt her attentions to my tits if she happened to spot a stray drop of cum that she had not yet licked off of me. I brought my finger covered with her juices up to my mouth and sucked the slick coating off. Mae was acting like a women possessed, and the taste of her cum along with her love making to my tits was really getting me worked up.

I returned my hand to Mae's pussy rubbing it vigorously. She moaned my left nipple between her teeth. I wanted to taste her again. I ran my hand down her leg, catching a drip that had escaped from her pussy, tracing the moist line all the way back to its origin. I slid my finger insider her, as deeply as I could reach, and then brought the treasure back to my mouth, where I greedily sucked it from my finger.

I could wait no longer; I had to eat Mae's pussy. Her flavor in my mouth was driving me crazy. I pulled Mae off of my breast, and pushed her back against the island counter, dropping to my knees. "I haven't finished cleaning you yet," she protested, though I was not listening. I pushed Mae's knees apart and dove at her dripping cunt. I had been planning to drive her crazy with teasing, but was too lust filled to be able to wait myself. My tongue darted around her pussy, lapping up the juices that leaked from opening. I swirled around her clit, causing her to cry out. Then spread her lips and drove my tongue deep into her sodden flesh. I could taste a mixture of man, and her own cum. Someone had cum inside her pussy this afternoon. I had no idea who's cum it was as I had been far too busy milking cum from my own cocks to pay attention to who was fucking and cumming in Mae. I savored the flavor of the mixture inside her pussy. I wanted more of it. I pulled back slightly, sucking her labia into my mouth. Her flesh was saturated with her juices. 

Mae's legs buckled slightly. They were becoming weak, no longer able to hold her weight. I helped her onto the counter where she could lay on her back, giving me full access to her pussy. I sank my tongue back inside of Mae, driving as deep as I could, until I could taste the reservoir of cum inside her. I tried to lick up what I could, but it was too deep. My tongue retreated to my mouth with what little bounty it had found. I moved back to her clit, and started to suck on it. While I sucked Mae's clit I inserted two fingers into her sopping cunt. 

"Oh fuck," she cried. "Yes, fuck my pussy with your fingers. Fuck it good and hard."

My fingers slid easily inside her. I drove them deep inside her, lapping at her clit all the while. I sucked her lips into my mouth. Sliding my fingers from her, I shoved them into my mouth, they tasted of cum. I sucked on them, cleaning them thoroughly, and then reinserted them into Mae for another taste. My tongue snaked back to her clit, which I could now feel poking out from under its hood. Mae's breathing was becoming more labored. She grabbed the back of my head, and thrust her hips forward, ramming her pussy into my face.

Realizing how close she was to reaching another orgasm I abandoned my quest for the elusive cum buried deep in her pussy, and centered my efforts on making her cum. I increased the pace of my fingers, until they were pounding into her, all the while assaulting her clit with my tongue. Mae's moans became louder. I lapped at it the little nub, occasionally sucking it into my mouth. I had her clit between my lips, my tongue brushing over it when I felt Mae's pussy clamp down on my fingers.

"Don't stop. Don't fucking stop," she cried. "I'm going to cum." With that little warning I had just enough time to get my fingers out of her pussy and replace them with my tongue. "OH, YES. YES. YESYESYES YYEEEEEEEESSS." And my mouth was flooded with a rush of Mae's juices. I swallowed what I could, though her explosive orgasm was more then I could take at once. I lapped at her opening relishing the lovely taste of her cum. I could detect some of the flavor of man cum that I had noticed earlier, it seemed that her latest release had brought some other rewards with it as well. I continued to suck up her juices, licking what I could from between her tender folds, until Mae released my head, allowing me the freedom to move. She dropped down beside me grabbing my head in her hands once again and pulled me to her in a passionate kiss. Her tongue darted around the inside of my mouth wrestling with mine. Her hands roamed over my body. I felt them as they slid over my tits, pinching my nipples, and then slid down my back, squeezing my ass, and then finally one made its way between my legs to my steaming pussy.




Lemonade and Pussy



Mae broke our kiss. She pushed me onto my back. "I never got the chance to finish cleaning you," she said a devilish glint in her eye. "And I think that you have a very dirty place that needs me to clean it."

I spread my legs further nodding my head in agreement. Mae's hand had stayed on my pussy, rubbing my throbbing clit. She brought it to her mouth, and licked each finger clean. "Hmmm," Mae sighed. "Tasty. I think that I taste more then just you down there."

Mae leaned forward bringing her lips right up to my pussy. I could feel her warm breath on my tender flesh. My pussy burned with desire, I needed her to eat me. Her tongue brushed along my outer lips. I moaned with anticipation. Mae parted my lips and traced the inside of my pussy with the tip of her tongue, grazing over my clit. My hips bucked up toward her, pushing my pussy into her mouth. She kissed my center, and then I felt her tongue push inside me.

"Oh god Mae, eat me. Eat my fucking pussy. I need it soooo bad. Eat my pussy and make me cum."

She responded by sucking my clit into her mouth. She then dove into my pussy and ate it with wild abandon. Her tongue lapped at my entrance, dipping inside me, and tracing my folds up to my clit, flicking at the hard nub perched atop my pussy. I moaned in time with her attentions to my pussy. Her tongue continued to play across me. My eyes closed as I concentrated on the sensations emanating from my pussy. I felt my lips being sucked into Mae's mouth. My hands slid across my breasts, squeezing and kneading them. I rolled my nipples between my fingers. She slid one and then two fingers into me. Her tongue concentrated more on my clit.

"Oh, fuck," I moaned. "Mae, that feels so fucking good. Fuck me with your fingers. Oh suck on my fucking clit. Oh, yeeeess, just like that."

I pulled my left breast up to my mouth so that I could suck at my nipple. I wrapped my lips around my nipple and pulled at it. They were both hard like a pair of pencil erasers. Mae's tongue continued to buzz around my pussy. I gasped with each thrust of her fingers. My breath was becoming ragged. I could feel my climax building.

"Oh. Oh Mae. Oh yes. Oh fuck. I'm going to cum. Oh yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yesyesyes. Fuuuuuuuuck. Oh fuck yes. Oh god. Oh Mae. Oh. That was sooo fucking good. I needed that cum sooo badly."

Mae continued to lick my entrance as I recovered from my orgasm. She eagerly lapped up the cum that oozed from pussy.

"Kiss me," I called to Mae. "I want to taste my cum on your lips."

Mae gave my pussy a kiss and a final lick, and then started to move up my body. She kissed my clit, then my belly button; three more times up the center of my stomach, once on each of my tits, and then finally on my lips. I grabbed the back of her head and crushed my lips into hers. Our tongues intertwined with each other moving from her mouth to mine. Her hands held my face as she fiercely returned my kiss. I slide one hand down to her ass, playfully squeezing it. Mae moaned into my mouth. I closed my lips around her tongue and sucked on it. We lay there for along while enjoying each others company and savoring the various flavors of cum on our lips.

"This has been one of the best days that I've had in a long time," I murmured to Mae. 

"Yes, we should do this more often," she replied kissing my cheek. "I'm not doing anything tomorrow."

"I may just take you up on that." I closed my eyes and pulled her close to me. "Why don't you just stay over? Kevin won't be back for several days still."

Mae just smiled and nestled her head against my breasts.



Lemonade and White Melons



It was a bright, muggy August Tuesday morning in Lawrence, Kansas. Chris Jenkins was trimming a hedge at the side of a stately old house built after Quantrill's Raid; a light blue 2 story house with a full front porch, gables, ornate trim, and long, thin windows. It had an ample yard with an artistic display of flowers in front of the house, and hedges on the side and along the back edge of the property. The trim was clean and white, thanks to Chris' attentions the previous day, and the windows freshly washed. The crispy cut yard was a result of an early morning's work, and after the current hedge, Chris was planning to rush home, grab a quick shower, and head to work at a convenience store on 6th Street.

Chris was a pudgy 30 year old, with brown eyes, glasses, sandy hair beginning to recede, and a closely trimmed beard. He wore a Bethany College t-shirt in deference to a school he attended for a semester years ago. His KU shorts were another memento of a failed attempt at higher education; his feet were in blue high top sneakers.

He grew up in Lawrence: his father worked as a cabinet maker for the Reuter Organ Company and his mother worked in the local library as she raised their seven children, Chris the second youngest. After his failure to establish himself away from home, Chris and his father renovated the basement of the family home on Missouri street into an apartment the summer before the old man died of a heart attack. For the past five years, he casually looked after his mother while working odd jobs to supplement his income as convenience store manager.

The homeowner, Mrs. Anna Pearson was a few feet away, working on her roses. A broad hat protected her from the sunlight, but her tall frame was already bronzed from many hours of dedication to her flowers. She wore a white, baggy, sleeveless blouse, and red shorts that reached almost to her knees; one foot was encased in a walking boot and she leaned on two crutches. She was Chris' old German teacher, who came to Lawrence many years before as the bride of a professor, widowed relatively young, and raised a family herself. Her face belied her age: she had an ageless beauty similar to Helen Mirren, Meryl Streep or Susan Sarandon. 

Chris paused to see her reach awkwardly across her body and drop her snips, one crutch dropping to the ground and her body trying to regain her balance, swaying in preparation for a fall. The shears fell to the ground and he rushed over to catch her, encircling her in his arms and taking her weight. "I've got you, Frau Pearson, I've got you. Don't worry, you'll be all right. You okay?"

"Ja. Thank you, Chris." Her voice was low and dulcet, untouched by age, and a bare hint of an accent. The H almost disappeared from the first word and her W's tended to drift toward V's.

"I was afraid I was going over. Never got the hang of these darn things." She trembled in his arms as she still didn't have her balance and wasn't sure if he was going to be able to hold her.

"I'll get you where you can sit down. Where should we go?"

She looked around. "How about the back steps?"

"Fine."

Half carrying and half stumbling, they managed to cross the yard and around to where he could set her down. Hunched over, he realized as they maneuvered the bulges he held were not folds of her stomach but her breasts. The prick of the nipples on his palms caused a natural reaction, which pushed into the crevasse of bottom as it was flush against his pelvis. He was glad her face was hidden by her straw hat: despite being drenched with sweat, he was sure he was blushing, and his consternation at his reaction fueled it rather than quenched it.

They reached the back stairs, which led up to the back porch. She managed to gain control and let herself down on the steps while he held on to make sure she had a soft landing. Backing away, he looked at her: her hat fell off as she sat and her long white streaked dark hair was frizzled in a bun with a braided ponytail. She looked up at him, her blue eyes blinking in the sunlight and her mouth framing a smile he rarely saw in High School. Her eyes flicked to his shorts and found a blue bulge that brought a twinkle. "Thank you, Chris, I'm very grateful you helped me avoid an accident."

He stepped back and looked away. "You're welcome, Frau Pearson. I didn't want you to hurt yourself."

"Is there anything I can do for you?' She asked in an ordinary tone, looking him in the eye as he dared face her.

"I'm a little thirsty."

"There is a pitcher of lemonade on the counter in the kitchen. Why don't you get us a couple of glasses from the cupboard beside the sink?"

"Sure."

He trotted past her quickly as he ascended the stairs and went through the porch and into the kitchen. It was in perfect order: a huge room with antique cabinets above and below. The frosty glass pitcher sat on the counter, milky with a couple of seeds lurking in the murk. He pulled two plastic tumblers from the cabinet and filled them, the cold refreshing in his hot hands. After filling them, he took a deep breath and tried to focus on something that would calm him: his last girlfriend's caustic rejection of his request for oral stimulation did the trick. Shuddering like someone surfacing from the depths, he felt able to face his old teacher again.

"Thank you, Chris," she smiled as he handed her the tumbler. He stepped away and sipped his drink: it was the best lemonade he'd every tasted. "You've been so nice to help me while I've been hobbled by this awful thing."

"You're welcome, Frau Pearson. Happy to help."

"Could you fetch my other crutch from the side?"

"Sure"

A glance at his watch as he rounded the house told him he didn't have much time. On returning, he came up to hand her the crutch and noticed that his hold on her had gathered her blouse to outline her breasts with sweat. Momentarily, they caught his gaze before he handed them back. A stirring in his loins began and he blurted: "I need to go, Frau Pearson. Gotta get ready for work."

"Sure, Chris, I'll be all right here. I'm not going to try anything stupid for the rest of the day. Will you come back tomorrow morning and finish the hedges for me?"

"Sure, Frau Pearson."

Her eyes were beaming and her smile was broad. "I like it when you call me Frau Pearson. Reminds me of happy memories."

He shrugged. "Habit."

Letting down the ramp of the old Chevy truck he inherited from his dad, he rolled his push mover up into the bed, and started home. His hands trembled as he held the steering wheel, and his arousal was still stirring. When he got home, he showered in cool water before putting on his uniform, reporting for work at 4:00PM with wet hair.

That evening, he was paired with Jessica, a junior in high school with an above average body and a below average face. She was heavily made up, with her hair dyed several shades of red. He was going through some inventories at the counter when he noticed she had been sitting on a stool nearby working on her yellow painted fingernails. "What are you doing, Jessica?"

"Filing my nails." A pop of gum accompanied her disdain.

"Why don't you take a damp cloth and dust the shelves?"

"Can I take a smoke break?"

He looked around. "You had one fifteen minutes ago. The shelves need dusting."

"Been there, done that yesterday." She continued to work on her nails and her gum.

"It doesn't look like it."

"Tough."

He spun around and looked her square in the eye. She batted her eyes at him, trying to manipulate his libido. "Look, we're not paying you to sit around. We have a hard time selling stuff with an inch of dust on it. I've had to write you up twice this month already. Get moving." His voice brooked no refusal.

She harruped and got off her chair, stalking off to fetch the cloth. He followed her with steely eyes as she returned to start swiping lightly at a shelf of canned goods. Clearing his throat, she gave him a look to kill, which he returned with a glare of whatever. With a sigh, she started doing the task more thoroughly and Chris returned to his paperwork. The clock told him there was four more hours for Purgatory left.

After midnight, he parked his truck and rode across town on his ten year old second hand bike. With gas prices the way they were, Chris used his bike whenever he could. He used to drive into Kansas City to browse bookstores and gaming shops on his Wednesdays off, but things were too tight for that now. At least he was welcome as his buddy Dave Chapman's house on game nights to take on his identity as Percodan the Wizard.

Percodan the Wizard came up to the campfire where four others sat: Gomer the dwarf, Sylvian the Elf, Macrome the Druid and an unknown Human fighter. "Greetings, friends. How fare you this bright evening?"

"Where the fuck have you been?" growled the fighter.

"I have been on the other side of the forest, gathering elements for my incantations."

"Percodan is a truth teller and trusthworthy," Sylvian intoned. "If he could not have joined us earlier, it is because he had urgent business." 

"Shit, every game I've played in before, you either get there at the start or you don't play."

"Stay in character, Todd" Dave the Dungeonmaster said. "Chris has been playing here for 16 years, and didn't get off work until midnight. He's welcome here anytime, and as far as I'm concerned, he can enter an adventure in the middle."

"All right, but he's not getting a full share of the treasure," the fighter fumed. "What kind of dumbfuck name is Percodan anyway? Sounds like the stuff they gave my Dad when he was in the hospital."

Three flashes of brilliance emerged from Percodan's hand and smote the fighter a surprised expression on his face. "Shit," he said. Three more flashes turned him into a piece of smoldering toast, and the party gathered themselves to find another campsite.

"All right, but you guys are really fucked to go adventuring without a fighter," said the ashes.

3:00 AM found Dave and Chris having breakfast at an all night restaurant on 23rd Street. "I'm sorry about Todd, Chris," Dave began. "He came a couple of times when you were off at Intersection 14. In some ways, I'm glad you ran him off: he's always been arguing rules and trying stuff that would kill Superman."

"Don't worry about it, Dave," Chris replied through corned beef hash and eggs. "I'm just getting tired of all the young guys with an attitude."

"All the young guys have an attitude," Dave snorted.

"How many guys like him have we played with over the years?"

Dave looked up at the ceiling and nibbled at his toast. "Nine. Not counting big head Todd."

They worked on their food, and signaled for more coffee. Chris pushed back his plate and said, "You'll never believe who I've been working for this week."

"Who?"

"Someone who almost flunked the two of us our junior year."

"You'll have to be more specific."

"Frau Pearson."

"Frau Pearson? She still alive?"

"Yeah. Living down in old West Lawrence. Beautiful house, beautiful yard."

"Why did she need your help?"

"She screwed up her ankle, and couldn't do the yard work herself. Had a neighbor kid help her for a few weeks, but he went on vacation last Thursday."

Sipping his coffee, Dave grew reflective. "You know, Frau Pearson is the first person I ever masturbated to."

Chris did a classic spit take with his coffee under the table. "What? In class?"

"No, you moron, not in class. In my bedroom, in the dark. Geez, who could get away with anything in her class?" He pushed away an egg stained plate. "I used to picture her in a bustier, those lovely Teutonic tits pushed up and peeking over the top, a garter belt, black stockings and thigh high leather spike heeled boots."

"Her hair was starting to turn grey, and if her eyes couldn't kill, they could main, at least. You're sick, dude."

"Oh yeah? When was the last time you got laid?"

"Not that long ago."

"Come on, it's been ten years at least."

"No, it was two years ago at Omaha. That girl from Wichita who came dressed as a Klingon."

"Called herself Ga'arasha? Her? Shit, she acted like she had teeth down below, and wanted to use them."

Chris smiled. "She surely didn't."

"No way you had her, no way. All the guys were staying away from that bitch. Although she was pretty cute, I guess, if she ever took the makeup off."

"I was the only one who could speak Klingon with her. Why do you think I missed the last morning?"

Dave shook his head. "All right, all right. You still in touch with her?"

"Nope," he said, looking down to take a slug of coffee.

"How come?"

"We e-mailed, instant messaged a while. Spent a day at an Emporia hotel, oh, I can't think of when. Wanted me to move to Wichita."

Dave put his mug down. "Why didn't you?"

"She didn't understand I have to take care of Mom."

They sat for a few silent moments, before picking up their checks and moving to the register.

Chris woke up the next morning, and read a chapter of his favorite Harry Potter book. The tiny windows of his basement apartment told him it was still fairly early, peeking in across the stacks of paperbacks, dirty clothes, and collectable toys. He was thinking about how much time he'd have to play his favorite Internet game when he remembered his promise to finish Frau Pearson's yard that morning. He thought about calling in sick, but from his student days he remembered that nobody lied successfully to her and resigned himself. Maybe she wouldn't be home. He pulled on a t-shirt and shorts, with his signature blue high tops.

There was no indication of activity when he pulled up and parked on the street. Her garage was around back, so there was no way to know if she was home. Taking his shears, he finished the hedge he worked on the day before, and went around to the back. A light in the kitchen outlined a figure puttering around within: she moved slowly and easily and didn't seem to be using her crutches. He bent to work, trying to calculate exactly how much branch to remove in order to keep his crotch quiet.

The door opened behind him. "I have some lemonade, Chris. Are you interested?"

She stood in the doorway in a blue floral dress with a V neck, barefoot and her hair hanging down past her shoulders. Chris thought for a moment of a lie, but backed down: "Sure, Frau Pearson, I've love a glass."

He put down his clippers and entered the kitchen. She picked two frosty glasses off the counter, and said: "Let's sit in the living room and be comfortable." He followed her dumbly.

The living room was full of older furniture and lined with a couple of huge bookshelves, with titles in several different languages. A cookoo clock ticked away beside the window, which was framed by a couple of planters with vines. The rug was well worn and the edges revealed a hardwood floor beneath. There were two chairs by the window, and a long, low table in front of a couch.

Sitting on an overstuffed chair, Chris sipped his drink as she settled on the couch across from him. When she sat, the brown expanse of her chest revealed a line of white: a dawn line that hinted at what lay beneath. The sight stirred him, and he crossed his legs to hide his interest. "Tell me, Chris, what have you been up to since you graduated from High School?"

"Oh, not much. Tried college at Lindsborg and here. Got a job, just trying to make ends meet, taking care of Mom."

"Your mother is a widow."

"Yeah, for five years."

"Is she in good health?"

"Well, she's on oxygen all the time now, since she's always smoked."

"Do you smoke?"

"Only a cigar once in a while."

They sipped their drinks, and her eyes grew eager and bright. He looked into the blue depths, entranced. "Where do you come from in Germany?"

She looked at a picture on the end table. "I come from a village a few miles from the Czech border in Bavaria. The year I was born, it started moving away from me. My parents died during the war in a bombing raid and I was in a orphanage in München until I was 18. I got a job at an American base and that's where I met Johnny."

"Your husband?"

"Yes. He married me at 19 and brought me here when he got out of the Army."

"What did he teach?"

"He taught English literature. It was a crazy life, having four little ones, a new on every year, then going to college myself for a teacher's certificate. But it was a good life."

He scanned the bookshelves and coffee table. A picture book was open: shots of a baby wearing white clothes in church, held by different people. His eyes wandered over to the horizon of her chest, then back. There was one upside down where she was holding the baby proudly with women of two different generations behind her. She noticed his attention: "Isn't he cute? Just baptized a week ago Sunday. Terri's a very brave woman."

"Terri's your daughter?"

"Terri's my granddaughter. Her little boy is named John Robert, after my husband. Mary and George are going to let Terri and the baby live with them, and Terri's going to finish her teaching certificate next year. Little Johnny's an angel: didn't cry at all when they poured water over his head."

"How many grandchildren do you have?"

"23, and 4 great grandchildren coming after."

He struggled not to fumble his glass. "When did you start teaching at Lawrence High?"

"In 1970, right after Johnny died in that accident near Topeka. I had to go to work to support the family. It was wonderful, I loved teaching and I hated to retire. But things have gone well since." 

Another nervous sip, and Chris looked around at a panoply of photos: old and new, they told the story of her family, her broad smile echoed in several faces young and old. "I remember you used to write a lot when you where in school, had several poems in the paper," she continued. "Do you still write?"

"A little. I've got some stuff online, stories and poems. Got my own webpage on an independent author's site."

"Do you have anything published?"

"No."

"Ever try?"

"No. Don't know how to do it."

She looked at him, concern in her eyes. "You are so talented. Hiding your light under a bushel, you are. I'd like to read your stories."

"You can find me on Google."

His eyes flitted down to the white dawn line. She moved to the floor in front of her couch, leaning back against it. Her breasts rested on the table, and the dawn line increased. "Do you have a girlfriend, Chris?" 

"Not now."

"How long has it been?"

"A couple of years."

She leaned forward and more whiteness came to light. "I'm very flattered, Chris."

He looked up at her eyes: they were shining. "I beg your pardon."

"It's been a long time since a man looked at me." She reached out and touched his ankle; his heart rate increased precipitously.

Shaking his head, he said: "I don't understand."

A hand undid the top button on her dress, revealing more milky whiteness. "What you did for me yesterday was special. You held me in such a way. I can't describe what feelings were going through me."

"I just wanted to make sure you didn't hurt yourself."

"And I didn't." Her legs were thrust under the coffee table and her feet stuck out the other side, she wiggled her brown toes in celebration. "Thanks to you, I got rid of that awful boot and now I can walk free, as long as I'm careful."

"That's nice," he muttered, struggling to control himself. The bulge in his shorts was growing and she devoured it eagerly with her eyes.

"You have a nice turnip." she said in a suddenly husky tone. "I could feel it against me yesterday."

"Huh?"

Another button came undone, and more white curves were exposed. "You can look at my breasts, go ahead. When I was younger I used to go to the nude beaches on the Baltic. My mother might have called me shameless." She pulled one side back and revealed one breast to him, offering him her pure flesh. "I can tell you like looking at me. It's been so long." Then the other side was pulled back and her breasts were lying on the table before her, her huge brown nipples erecting. "Touch them, Schatzi. I know you want to. Please."