Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Heat Wave
Part: 18 of 25
Universe: The Heat Wave
Summary: Meet Cletus Putnam: landlord, entrepreneur, opportunist, sometime
Dom.  It's hotter than Hell and he has the only swimming pool and central
air conditioning in his little lower middle-class neighborhood -- and he's
not above taking advantage of that fact.
Content: MmF M-dom humil mF toys Mm anal 1st FF oral

Chapter 18

	Ed and Cindy picked Pete.  They ended up in Pete's room in the
basement, and we set up an inflatable in my office for Michael -- and I
locked down my office system tight to keep him out of it.  I got it on video,
but I don't think I ever looked at it.  Jean and Amy and Heather slept in the
TV room and I made Karen sleep at the foot of the bed.

                       ----------------------------------

	Thursday, we were up early.  Ed, Jean, Heather and Amy had to punch
out for work, and the construction crew arrived at seven.  I moved Karen to
my bed and put Kate to work in the kitchen, Michael assisting.  Pete looked
like crap; Cindy apparently sucked him dry while handling Ed's action in the
breaks.  I put him back down in the TV room.  Neither Pete nor his mother was
going to get a lot of sleep, though, what with the hammering and banging;
both were up before ten.

	Around ten-thirty, the doorbell rang.  Karen got up and went to
answer it, snagging her robe off the hook by the door.  I stuck my head
around the door to see who in the Hell was going to bother us now...

	It was Cindy, who blinked in surprise at seeing Karen, who hadn't
been present during most of her overnight stay, and hadn't been visible this
morning.  "Oh!  Hello..."

	I chuckled.  "Let her in, Karen -- and put your robe back on the
hook.  This is Cindy, the nosy neighbor -- we pulled her fangs last night,
though, so she's a member of the family.  She's also the reason your son
looks like twelve miles of rough road -- I figure she tried to drain six
month's worth of semen from him last night."

	That left both women embarrassed -- something I enjoyed immensely.
"Hi, I'm Karen," Karen muttered, sticking out her hand, "I'm Pete and Kate's
mom."

	"Pleased to meet you..."  Cindy's face was fire engine red.  She
looked at me and I knew she wanted to say something, but I just shook my
head, so she went back to Karen, "I, uh..."  She ground to a halt.

	"Cindy had a lot of pent-up urges," I supplied.  "We're working our
way through them.  Pete more or less got lucky.  Karen, why don't you explain
your status so Cindy knows how to deal with you?"

	Karen flicked a glance at me and turned back to Cindy, announcing
forthrightly, "I'm the house slut.  I'm the bottom of the totem pole around
here and everybody else, regardless of age, sits above me, although I have a
few parental prerogatives.  That's about it."

	Cindy was rocked.  "Uh, okay..."  She looked at me, "I thought you
wore clothes before seven."  She was wearing her blue swimsuit and a cover-
up.

	"I do or I don't as the mood hits me," I replied, heading back to my
seat at the kitchen table.  "On the other hand, Karen dresses the way I tell
her to -- and that generally means going without -- doesn't it, Slut?"

	"Yes, Master," Karen agreed solemnly.

	"I... see..." Cindy muttered.

	"I doubt it," I chuckled.  "I haven't decided what to do about you."

	"Excuse me?"

	I grinned evilly.  "Remember that DVD?  Do you really think you're
off the hook?"

	"I... think I'll..." Cindy turned to escape.

	"Slut, bar the door!" I ordered.  Karen interposed herself between
Cindy and the exit.  I crooked a finger at Cindy.  "Come here."

	Some things are just fun -- and watching the play of expressions on
Cindy's face was a hoot!  But I'd seen plenty enough to know that she hadn't
recovered from having her legs kicked out from under her, so I knew what she
would do -- and she did it; she approached me slowly.  I crossed my legs
under the chair and pointed at the floor in front of me.  "Kneel."  Slowly,
watching me the whole time, she went to her knees.  "Now crawl up here until
your tits are on the chair..."  Cindy did as she was told.  "Slut, get my
phone," I directed Karen, who grabbed it from the counter and knelt to
present it to me.  Cindy watched her, bug-eyed.  In the background, Pete,
Michael, and Kate watched the show, silently -- but Pete and Michael were
grinning.  "Okay, tell me Ed's work number."

	Cindy recited it.  The look on her face was priceless as she wondered
what kind of trouble she was in -- and whether calling her husband would help
or hurt her.

	I put the phone on speaker.  "Ed?  Cletus Putnam, here."

	"Oh, hi, Cletus..." Ed's voice came back.

	"I've got your wife over here -- we're on speaker, so she can hear,"
I warned him.  "I was wondering if you knew about it."

	"No..." Ed replied.  "She can't be there to fuck -- she's almost got
to be sore from the working over she got yesterday and last night!  What ARE
you doing there, Cindy?"

	"I... came to swim..." Cindy stammered.

	"More likely to hang out inside where it's cool and watch the soaps,"
Ed chuckled.  Cindy hung her head.

	"I can't abide that crap," I grunted.  "Anyway, we didn't talk after
last night, so I didn't know whether you've let her off the hook for that
little exhibition she pulled yesterday or not."

	There was a pause while Ed absorbed this.  "Well, she's forgiven, but
she's not in the catbird seat," Ed drawled.  "I figure she owes a few people
for past sins, let alone what went on yesterday.  You certainly don't have to
take any shit from her."

	"I wouldn't, anyway," I chuckled.  "Given that fine piece of
cinematography she created yesterday, I don't really figure she ought to say
'Boo!' to me..."

	Ed chuckled.  "Yeah, you've got a point.  Cindy?  I want dinner on
the table when I hit the driveway, so I can get in a decent swim and cool off
at Cletus' afterward, you hear me?"

	"Yes, Ed..."  She licked her lips.

	"You do whatever Cletus wants." Ed directed.  "I don't care WHAT it
is.  Is your pussy sore?"

	"A little..."  I was willing to bet it was wet, though...

	"Cletus, I'd ask you to spare her a little wear and tear so we can
enjoy her more often -- but she's got other holes.  She went over to your
place and she knows the rules -- and she's learning the new ones now, I
guess.  If you decide to let her watch her soaps, take whatever toll you feel
like for it -- it's your place."

	"That seems fair," I chuckled.  There was an interval of banging that
we had to sit through before we could talk; when it ended, I said, "Remind me
to talk to you about a little get-together I'm throwing for the construction
crew next week."

	Ed chuckled.  "You do that.  Cynthia, are we clear about what's
expected of you here?"

	"Yes, Ed."

	"I don't want to hear from Cletus that you abused his hospitality or
pissed him off in any way -- you understand?"

	"Yes, Ed!"

	"Okay, then.  That it, Cletus?"

	"That's it, Ed."

	"Thanks for the call -- the boys on this end got a hoot out of it,
too!"

	"You're welcome, Ed.  Bye!"  I hung up, laughing.  Clearly, Cindy had
called Ed and embarrassed him in front of friends and co-workers on numerous
occasions.  She was as red as a beet as the implications sunk in.  "It's a
new day, isn't it, Cynthia?" I jibed.  She choked and gurgled some -- she
couldn't seem to find words -- so I said, "Just nod, Hon. That'll work
fine..."

	"Surely he didn't..." she gasped.

	"Well, maybe he did, and maybe he didn't -- but if you want to be
sure, we can call him back and ask him to let someone else talk..."

	"NO!"  Cindy put up her hands.

	"Are you sure? It seems to be important to you..." I teased.

	"No, please!"

	"Oh, all right..."  I contrived to look put upon.  "Get naked, then
come right back here to where you are now."  She eyed me, aghast, so I waved
my hand, "Hurry up!  What part of you'll do whatever I say don't you
understand?  Even if Ed was less than willing to leave you in my care, you'd
think that you would want to be the soul of cooperation, under the
circumstances..."  Cindy flinched, then got up and got out of her suit and
cover-up and re-knelt with her big jugs on the chair seat between my legs.  I
slid a hand under her left and thumbed the nipple, which was already up and
spiky.  "I don't want anything right now, Cindy.  This is all about you
understanding where you are in the pecking order around here.  Do you have
any idea where that might be?"

	"N-no..."

	"Just above Karen, Hon -- just above Karen.  If I say 'Hop!' you ask
how high AFTER you're in the air, understand?"  I squeezed the nipple for
emphasis -- more of a threat than actually causing her pain.

	"Y-yes..."

	"Yes, what?"

	"Yes... Cletus?"

	"That's right -- you don't call me Master -- although you might want
to try it out on Ed -- he might get a kick out of it."  I looked to where the
trio of young folk was watching the scene.  "You see those three?  You're
below them -- in fact, the boys OWN you, if you think about it.  But who
knows -- Kate might want a little something, now and then.  Obviously, Jean
and Heather are above your lowly station -- although Jean, in particular,
probably won't abuse you too much.  I don't have to TELL you about Amy, do I?
From what I've seen, she's already made her position clear..."

	Cindy, eyes huge, knelt before me, shaking like a leaf.  A shadow
flickered; I looked over to see Julio go past the slider, which changed my
immediate plans -- I'd been planning to send Cindy and Karen out to skim the
pool, nude.  I waved her off.  "Go watch TV.  Put down a towel so I don't
squelch in pussy juice when I use the couch.  Keep the volume down -- I HATE
soaps."

	"Damn..." Kate breathed.

	I chuckled.  "When you've got their pussy and their ass in the old
bowling ball grip and they know it, it tends to change their whole outlook."

	"Ewww, Cletus!" Kate wrinkled her nose, but joined the general
giggle.  "I'm always amazed..."

	"Are you just going to let her watch TV?" Karen asked.

	The fact that she didn't add 'Master' to that question told me it was
serious.  I gave her my best, 'Are you nuts?' look and said, "Not bloody
likely!  Michael, are you busy right now?"

	"Huh?  No!"

	"Slut, go downstairs and get a vibrator from the toy box -- wear your
robe and don't stop to have your ass pinched.  Bring it up to Michael.
Michael, when you've got it, take it in there and make Cindy kneel up and use
it on her clit until she's swampy -- then fuck her ass.  If she gives you any
shit, tell her I told you what to do and that if I have to come in there to
enforce things, she'll have a bright red ass!"

	"Cool!"  Michael grinned from ear to ear.  I eyed Karen and she moved
out smartly, gathering her robe and heading downstairs.

"I'll be in my office..." I announced, and got up and left.

While I talked to my bookkeeper and a couple of realtors and did some
paperwork, I watched Michael handle Cindy on the screen; she didn't argue
much at all -- a week or so of training from us and she would be totally
reoriented.  After a bit, Pete wandered in and eyed the screen.  "I could
have given her to you, but I figured you were recovering," I apologized.

"You're right," Pete agreed.  "I'm afraid to touch it today."

I chuckled.  "It'll heal."

"Yeah."  Pete sat watching Michael mess with Cindy for a while, and I let him
stew, since that was what he was doing.  Finally, he said, "About Ed..."

"Uh huh?"

"We didn't do anything..."

"Okay..."

"But..."

"He was nice to you?"

"Yeah."

That wasn't all of it, either.  "Spit it out, Son.  There's nothing you can
say that will set me off."

"I think he, uh, likes my ass," Pete said finally.

"Okay," I replied, "How do you feel about that?"

"Weird."

"Weird, how?"

"Well..."

I chuckled.  "Son, I can read you like a book, so just come out with it."

"It, uh, might be nice..."

"Might be," I agreed.

"I've never done it."

"Well, you can ask him -- or are you asking me?" I asked.

"I, uh, you..."  He hung his head.

"Jeezus, Son, you look like somebody shot your dog!" I exclaimed.

"Well, I'm sure you're disappointed in me..."

"Son, you spent half the night last night plowing Cindy.  Do you like pussy?"

"Well, yeah."

"Okay.  Do you like dick?"

"Yeah," he sighed.

"One more than the other?"

"I don't know."

"I don't see a problem with you finding out, either.  I've TOLD you that I
play both sides of the fence, and I've actually played your skin flute, so
it's no big thing.  In fact, I think you OUGHT to try out a cock in your ass,
bi, gay, or straight, just for the experience!"

"So you're not, like, mad?"

"Why should I be mad?  Be what you are, Son -- if you end up deciding that's
gay, I won't freak.  I just want you to do it all before you let somebody
ELSE convince you that you're one way or the other," I said gently.

"Okay."

I turned back to what I was doing, and Pete didn't leave; apparently, the
conversation wasn't over.  I looked back at him.  "Is there something else?"

"Well, I wanted..."

"Now?" I blurted.  Pete looked flustered and made to leave.  "Hold up!  If
you are anxious to get on with it, I imagine I can make a hole in my
schedule!"

"I don't want to..."

"Inconvenience me?" I chuckled.  "You come in here offering me your anal
cherry and that's an inconvenience?  Somehow, I don't think so!" I grinned.
"I just didn't realize you were in a hurry.  Is there a reason?"

He started twisting himself into knots.  "I just want to know!"

"Okay."  I locked down my systems and stood.  "There's a lot of women in the
house..."

"Yeah."

"My room.  We'll lock the door."

"Okay."

We made the transit without observation; I locked both doors -- the hallway
and the bathroom access.  "Might as well strip down," I suggested.

"Okay."  He got out of his clothes, and I got out of mine.

I eyed him.  "You're a cute little fucker, but I don't generally get romantic
with guys.  Is that okay, or do I need to work at it?  I'll be gentle either
way."

"Fuck buddies is fine," Pete said after serious consideration.

"Cool."  I fished out some lube.  "We'll take it slow and easy and hit more
than one target, okay?  I'm sure there are a couple of things you haven't
tried yet.  Use the lube on your pecker if you want to jack off -- it'll make
it easier.  I'm gonna lie down on my back; you climb over me and give me some
head to start.  I'm not going to blow you because it would probably hurt --
but I've got something else for you..."

Pete nodded and moved over me and went to work on my meat -- and he was
developing a technique, I had to admit.  Michael probably wasn't complaining
-- hadn't, from what I'd seen.  I pulled his ass down and did something I
seldom do -- I delivered a rim job.  He was clean, basically -- he had that
smell to him -- that musk that I, at least, don't associate with shit.  He
loved it, too, which made it fun.  He grunted and groaned and squirmed and
basically forgot about my cock.  I didn't get excited about that -- after
all, I was going to fuck him so it didn't matter.

After a couple of minutes, it was gooey finger time; I lubed up and worked my
stink finger into his ass slowly, starting with a tease around the ring and
moving on when his sphincter started winking.  Meanwhile, I ran my tongue up
that line that runs from the back of the scrotum up to the bung; I don't know
about you, but I LOVE that shit!  After a short time, I added a finger and
Pete puffed and snorted but didn't complain.  I felt around for his prostate
and he damn near whinnied!  "Are you ready, Son?" I asked.

"Yes, yes!" he panted.

"Okay, we're gonna do this missionary-style, like pussy," I told him.  "Roll
over and grab your knees."  He climbed off and flopped on his back and
grabbed his knees and I reached for the lube and got my rod as slippery as I
could.  "Here goes nothing," I grunted.  "Don't expect it to start out as fun
-- cherry is cherry."

"Okay..." Pete gasped, sounding congested.

"Try to relax," I suggested.  "I've been told that if you try to push it
helps."

"Uh huh..."  Pete was busy feeling his ass; I knew how it was -- just like he
was peering out of his bunghole and could see the tip of my dick parked
there, pushing.  His bung was slimy and my dick was slimy, and he'd been
opened, so when I pressed, he opened up -- in fact, it wasn't all that
difficult.  Pete gave a grunt as if just having my glans in him was poking
his heart from the inside, so I stopped.

"How's it goin'?"

"Is it like this for girls the first time?" Pete puffed.

"Similar," I admitted.  "Tougher on some.  Did it feel like I ripped you
open?"

"No.  It just feels like a baseball bat."

"Generally, girls DO get ripped," I related.  "They've got a cherry -- a kind
of a 'sanitized for your protection' membrane across the mouth of their
vagina.  Opening that fucker up usually means shredding it.  From an asshole
perspective, it's pretty much the same for everybody -- but guys have a
prostate and girls don't -- and for them that like it, that's an
improvement."

"Okay," Pete said, distracted, "I guess..."

I was moving before he finished -- water-based lube disappears quickly and we
needed some ass-grease replacing it before it was gone.  I got a millimeter
at a time it seemed like, but I kept the bottle handy and didn't make either
of us raw, and eventually, I'd sunk my pole to the root.  It was time to
lengthen my strokes, and I did so, gradually.  Since my hand was already
gooey, I topped it off and started jacking him wetly, setting up a rhythm
where my hand was pushed to the root while I was buried deep, and sliding
over his knob as I pulled back to his bung.  Pete started making that
querulous grunt that almost invariably indicates the grunter is taking a dick
and I wished I'd turned on the radio or something.  I had a good stroke
going, too, and was smacking into his ass, which is also a signature sound --
let's face it.  I tried backing off, but Pete hunched up and gasped, "Harder!
Faster!" and I knew I wouldn't be getting a nut if I farted around, so I went
back to slamming.

Pete's ass was tighter than a sonofabitch, so I was getting the full benefit,
riding it, jacking him in the same rhythm.  This went on for a period of time
that seemed pretty short to me but could have been ten minutes, then Pete
hunched up and went, "Agh!  AGH!  UUUGGHH!" and his dick went SQUIRRRRT and
painted him from chin to sternum.  Simultaneously, his bung clamped down on
me and started rhythmically wringing my dick and the lightning flashed and
the thunder roared and I tried to match him squirt for squirt, flooding his
colon with MY jizz!

I don't think I yelled or anything, but I might have.  When I settled back on
my haunches, still buried and pulsing and wringing Pete's dick with my hand
to enhance his cum, I heard a click and saw the doorknob move.

"Shit," I grunted, holding my finger to my lips.  "I'm afraid we made too
much noise to be private.  At least one person in this household is dying of
curiosity.  I'll do my best to help you confuse them, but your secret could
be out."

"Fuck!" Pete gasped, but he was a little too happy to want to come to grips
with the implications yet.

I backed out of his ass and it looked like I had a fudgsicle for a dick --
but smelled a LOT worse!  "If you get into this shit," I told Pete, "we're
going to have to talk about enemas!"  I hopped up and VERY CAREFULLY made my
way to the bathroom.  No one was in it, so I locked the hall door and did a
quick cleanup job, then waved Pete in.  "Get your clothes and clean up, then
go back out to the hall from here.  Maybe we'll get lucky..."

"Okay."  He nodded.  I left him there, went back to my room and put on a porn
video on my small TV/DVD player in the bedroom and threw open the door when
it was making nice, rutting sounds.  Who knew if it was going to work...

I planted a seed of doubt, but didn't really get Pete off the hook.  I got
some looks -- and when Pete surfaced a few minutes later walking bowlegged,
well...  Nobody said anything right away, at least.

Nonetheless, I had four separate visits to my office in the next two hours.
Karen came first.  "Master?"

"Yes?"

"About Pete..."

"Yes?"

"Did you...?"

"Did I what?"

"You know."

"That's between me and Pete.  You can be certain that if I did it was with
his full cooperation."

"Yes, Master.  Is there a, uh, problem?"

I pursed my lips -- dammit, she deserved to know...  "There wouldn't be, in
any case, Slut -- it's all a question of which direction he's headed.
Frankly, he doesn't know, so I imagine that whichever direction he veers, it
won't be a sharp turn.  Does that help you?"

"What's he done?"

"He's tasted both flavors."  I sat back.  "I've tasted both flavors, too --
and will go either direction, as the mood strikes.  He could do worse."

"Thank you, Master."

"Run along and don't hassle him about it.  I've told him he won't get shit
from me either way -- and personally, I think that's how you should handle
it, too -- but this is an area where you are free to do as you please," I
told her.

"Thank you again, Master."  She got up and left.

Twenty minute later, it was Kate.  "Cletus?"

I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling.  "Yes?"

"Did you, uh..."

"What?"

"Did you... do it... with Pete?"

"Would you want me to tell on YOU?"

"Well, no."

"Okay, then," I rasped.  "What good would it do for you to know?  Are you
under the impression that I would rape your little brother?"

"No."

"Good.  This conversation is at an end.  If you want the answer to your
question, Pete can supply it -- but if he won't, YOU LEAVE HIM THE FUCK
ALONE!  Understand?"

"Yes, Cletus."

"Now, run along, Sweetheart, and let me work."

Not long after, Cindy put in an appearance.  She came in and closed the
office door, then put her hands on her hips -- buck naked, mind you -- and
erupted, "Cletus Putnam, did you fuck that boy?"

I spun in my office chair and emulated her tone, "Cynthia Grover, did you
fuck that boy?  Who the fuck are YOU, anyway?"

"I..."

"Sit," I directed, standing.  She collapsed into the small loveseat I have in
my office.  I went to stand over her.  "Do you like girls?"

"I..."

"Answer the question.  I KNOW you eat pussy -- I'm asking if it bothers you,
deep down inside, or if it's just sex."

"It's... just sex," she admitted.

"So if Kate or Heather or Karen or Jean wanted a little lick or some fingers,
it would just be good clean fun, right?"

"Well, yes."

"And if, say, Heather asked you to be introduced to the mysteries, you would
handle it with consideration, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then, does that carry over to boys, or do you have a double-standard?"

Cindy frowned.  "I guess...  But it seems different, somehow."

"It is," I agreed.  "Society tends to treat a little lickey lickey between
girls as harmless fun -- but similar experimentation between boys marks them
for life.  That's bullshit, of course, but boys have to be a lot more careful
about it."

"So..."

"I'm admitting nothing, officially," I interrupted her.  "Pete just spent the
night with you and Ed -- which might beg the question 'What makes it urgent
that Pete should want to look into advanced homosexual play?'  Now, we'll
assume that you showed him a good time -- and you did, he told me so.  So..."

"Ed?"  Cindy blinked.  "He wants to sleep with Ed?  Ed's not into that."

"Are you sure?" I pressed.  "Maybe he likes a little on the side, but because
you were bouncing all over the place and pretending to be Mrs. Grundy, he put
it away.  You know, despite the atmosphere of coercion we have going on
around here, the focus of the effort is to see you realize some of your
sexual fantasies.  Would you deny him while you're getting yours?"

"Are you saying Ed is gay?"

"Jeezus, you're a rock -- you know that?  We've already discussed this!  If
you stick your tongue in a twat, does that make you a lesbian?" I rasped.

"Well, no..."

"So if Ed were to suck the occasional cock, but spends the majority of his
time in pussy, how does that make him queer?  Not that I'm saying he does --
we're just looking at it from the perspective of Pete's hopes."

"I... guess not."

"I KNOW not!" I declared.  "There is no real difference here, except for the
fact that a guy gets unjustly branded.  Now, if Pete was to make such an
offer with you there in the bed with them -- and we're saying for the sake of
argument that Ed is inclined to accept -- what are you going to do?"

"I..."

"Are you gonna be jealous of poor Pete, or are you gonna look around for a
loose dick to play with while it happens?" I pressed.

"I guess I'd... cooperate..."

"Is it that bad, really?"

"No."  She straightened her shoulders.  "No, I guess not."

"Maybe we've gotten through your Sex Ed for the day, then," I opined.  "Go in
the bedroom and climb up on the bed."

"Okay."  She got up and watching me nervously, went next door to my bedroom.

As I followed her out into the hallway, I yelled, "SLUT!"

Karen came a-running.  "Master?"

"You and Cindy plaster your mouths to each other's pussies until you've both
cum twice.  Do it."  I pointed.

"Yes, Master."  I stood there in the hall, watching, until they got
organized, then said, "I'll be watching, so do a good job," and headed back
into my office.

It wasn't over.  Fifteen minutes later, Michael was at the door.  "Cletus?"

"Yeah."

"What's going on?  Everybody is acting whacked."  Michael had gone outside
after abusing Cindy and hadn't noticed anything, apparently -- except the
fact that all of the womenfolk were a-twitter.

I waved him in, sighing.  "Close the door, Son."  He did so.  "Pete decided a
little earlier that he wanted to take the next step -- but there were a lot
of nosy women in the house, so he's outed."

"Oh."

"I don't know whether it was the defining experience of his life or not, but
I'm willing to bet that it wasn't, despite the fact that I think I did a good
job.  Point is, he's been there and done that, now -- don't be surprised if
he wants it again."

"I'm not taking it," Michael grunted.

"He won't ask, I don't think.  If he wants to fuck somebody, we'll find
somebody.  Try not to crap on him.  I think I've already told you that
personally, I don't think it would hurt you and it might give you an
appreciation for what you've done to at least one woman -- but I would never
press you for it because everybody has limits.  I'm just telling you what the
big 'secret' is, so you don't worry yourself about it.  You can discuss it
with Pete or not -- it might be better if you pretended ignorance, since the
women are all acting like idiots."

"Okay."

"Get out of here so I can finally work!"

Michael grinned and headed out.

                       ----------------------------------

Things quieted down.  Pete and Michael stayed downstairs with the
construction crew.  The women watched soaps, I guess; I think maybe Karen
tried to get a nap.  I don't know because I was hiding, too; while I didn't
feel that I'd done anything wrong, I was tired of confrontations about it
every five minutes.  When Mike pulled up, I went outside to talk to him about
progress.  "The plumber and the electrician will be here tomorrow," he
related, "With luck, we'll get inspections in the afternoon and be able to
close up the walls tomorrow or Monday.  Do you want us coming in on the
weekend?"

"Pass," I replied.  "I can use a couple of days without the banging and I
have a couple of night people who are getting frayed about the edges."

"Fine," Mike nodded.  "I didn't plan on it.  The boys are ahead of schedule,
anyway."  He grinned.

Heather and Amy got in about four -- apparently, they'd gone by Amy's for a
change of clothing -- or maybe to pick up her laundry to do at Cantrells,
from the looks of things.  There weren't any immediate lynchings, so I
figured either Amy defused the situation with Heather or the Moffats kept it
in the family.  The boys came upstairs and we sat out under the awning for a
bit when suddenly the younger generation females all descended upon us.

"I'm on the phone with Gina," Kate announced, "Joy is in a tailspin."

"Why?" I asked, wondering what that had to do with me.

"Because YOU TWO haven't called her!" Kate spun on the boys and accused.

"You never gave us her number!" Michael blustered.

"And you never asked!" Kate retorted.

"Shit."  Pete realized that he'd actually said it aloud and glanced around to
see if someone was going to light him up.  I ignored it.

"Well?" Kate demanded.

"Well, what?" Michael snarled.

"Are you gonna call her?"

"Are you gonna give me the number?"

"Why don't you just give him the phone?" I suggested.

"I'll take it," Pete offered.  Kate and Michael both looked surprised.
"What?"

"Nothing."  But Kate looked relieved.  She said into the mouthpiece, "Pete
wants to talk to Joy," then turned to me.  "Holly is up in arms, too."

"That isn't the boys' fault," I opined.

"No, but we need to put something together," Kate insisted.

"Another slumber party?" I asked.  I got nods from all three females.  I
rolled my eyes, "God help us!"

Meanwhile, Pete was in heavy weather.  "Well, I don't know!  Soon, I guess!
I can't just walk over there -- what would your mom say, anyway?"  He covered
the mouthpiece and asked me, "Can I bring her over sometime or something?"

"You three fix it," I ordered, waving at the girls.  "Do whatever it takes to
con Heather's mom into supporting it again.  She's safe from entrapment, at
least."  I turned to Pete, "Tell Joy there's another slumber party tomorrow
night."

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