Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Heat Wave
Part: 3 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: exhib mast Mf

Chapter 3

        When we got back, twenty-five minutes later, Jean was sound asleep.
Michael, who was in on the plan, grinned from ear to ear.  We threw a sheet
over her and turned out the lights and turned down the TV, then called
Heather and Amy in from the pool to eat.  We ate on the deck under the
awning in order to keep the noise down.

        After dinner, I went inside and back to my bedroom to prepare for
the nightly ritual -- this was no time to pass it up.  When I emerged in my
kilt, Amy and Heather were in the pool.  "Sorry, Ladies," I announced.
"Adult Swim.  Time to toddle off."  Heather took one look and swam to the
ladder, but Amy held her ground.

        "I'm fine," she announced confidently.

        I eyed her.  "Honey, the rules are posted and you even signed a slip
saying you would abide by them.  It's after seven."

        "I'm an adult."

        I scratched my chin and told her, "Honey, I may be an old bull, but
I'm still a bull.  You mess with me and you'll get bred -- I still do that
to women regularly.  Make up your mind what you're doing here."

        "I'm not wearing my glasses -- I won't see anything."

        "That's not the point, Honey," I replied as Heather moved past me,
giving me a look.  "You can watch it all the way to target if you like --
and you can BE the target.  But you need to abide by the rules."

        "I want to stay."  Amy looked stubborn.

        "You CAN stay -- you're an adult.  Heather can stay, too, but I
think she should talk to her mother first about it.  But you need to come
out of that suit."

        "Oh.  THAT rule."

        "That rule," I agreed.

        "What if I don't want to?  Then what happens?"

        "It's a multi-step process," I told her.  "First, I haul your
pinchable little ass out of there, then I frog-march you out the front door.
After that, I forbid you to return at any hour of any day.  Basically,
that's it."

        "Howcum the hard line?"

        "My house, my house rules.  You have choices, here.  It's not fair
to I don't know how many other people if I let you slide."

        Amy turned her attention to Heather, "You're getting out?"

        "I--I..."  She turned to me.  "Is it gonna be all right?"

        I sighed.  I wanted this little confrontation -- but not with her
mother in the house -- not before she'd been further desensitized.  You take
what you can get...  "Define 'all right', Hon.  If you're asking if it's all
right with me for you to cavort in the pool naked, the answer is 'yes.'  If
you're asking what your mother will think, the answer is probably 'no.'  If
you're asking if you're going to get molested because you're naked in my
pool, I would have to say 'not at this time', although Amy is begging for
it.  You can go into the TV room and ask your mama, but she's sleeping for
the first time in how long?  You two work it out -- but I'm about to get in
the pool -- and Amy is either getting out of that suit, or she's leaving.
While I hate to pressure you, I'm not going to stand here much longer -- and
when I start moving, at least one of you will have to come up off a decision
or it will be made for you."  I started counting to ten silently.

        "Heather..." Amy murmured.

        "Are you gonna...?"

        "Sure."

        "Can I get in the pool first?"

        I shrugged.  "Sure, if that's what you want to do."  I turned my
attention to Amy.  Heather went past me to the ladder and Amy reached for
the ties to her suit; in a second, the top was floating on the water.  "Toss
it here," I directed.

        "One second."  Amy surfaced her bottoms and wadded the whole mess
into a ball, then tossed it to me.  I put it down by the pool edge -- just
out of reach -- then turned my attention to Heather, who watched me
nervously as she removed her top and bent to untie her bottoms.  Taking a
deep breath, she balled her suit and tossed it to me, too, and I placed it
beside Amy's.  I then undid my towel and with great ceremony descended into
the water.  Yeah, I was a bit more than half hard -- but I knew I wasn't
getting any pussy from this pair tonight.  "See?  Was that so hard?" I
asked.

        "It looked pretty hard to me!" Amy chortled.

        "Take it as a compliment," I retorted.  "Any time you want to feel
it, the door's open."

        Heather gasped, horrified, but Amy giggled.  "His bark is worse than
his bite."

        "You keep thinking that," I told her.  "You should see me lick!"

        "Amy!" Heather gasped, "Mr. Putnam!"

        "Oh, come on, Hon," I replied.  "Amy wants to be a tease.  Well, I
can give as good as I get.  Hell, we're already playing 'I'll show you mine
if you'll show me yours' -- people get laid that way."

        "Um, well..." Heather flicked a glance at the slider.

        "Honey, I'm male.  If Amy wants to wave a red flag in front of my
nose, she's not safe.  You're not safe.  Your mama isn't safe.  That's how
it is.  I don't take girls against their will, but I don't pass up an
opportunity, either -- you remember that, because it's all the warning
you're gonna get!"

        Amy drifted toward me, hot-eyed.  "You're just a wild man, aren't
you?"

        "I'm George of the Jungle, running without a loincloth," I agreed.

        She drifted in close enough to grasp my hard on.  "I guess so!"  I
was facing her, so my body masked the action -- and me rubbing a nipple
under the water.

        "We're gonna fuck, aren't we?" I said softly.

        "Uh huh," Amy nodded.  "Not tonight, but..." she eyed Heather over
my shoulder.  "Yeah, I think so."  Pitching her voice so Heather could hear,
she said, "He's not so bad -- see?"  Then, softly, she asked me, "Think
she's a virgin?"

        "Yeah."

        "Want it?"

        "After her mama is broken in."

        Amy grinned from ear to ear.  "Mind if I play, too?"

        "Well, well, well!" I smiled.  "Allies?"

        "Allies."  Amy smiled and kicked off toward Heather.  "What are you
worried about?  You can't handle guys?" she teased Heather.  I pretended to
have serious swimming to do while I absorbed THIS surprising development...

        Five minutes later, Michael came out, went instantly bug-eyed,
yelled "Yippee!" -- shucked his suit and jumped into the pool.  "Hey, no
jumping!" I yelled.

        Michael ignored me.  "Sis!  Mom's gonna SHIT!"

        "Watch your mouth!" Heather retorted.  "This is safe -- do you see
Mr. Putnam molesting us?  What's so weird?"  For her little brother's
consumption, it was all her idea, of course...  I smiled to myself, watching
Amy lick her chops.  Michael had a decent-sized boner under his pubic bush.
While Heather declaimed haughtily all about how safe the situation was and
how she wasn't worried, Amy swam over to me and asked, "So, are you
omnivorous?"

        "You are a bad little girl," I replied.  "I like you a lot!"

        "I smell a party!" Amy giggled.

        "Well, not tonight," I sighed.  "Her mama needs a LOT of softening
up."

        "I'll help," Amy offered.

        "I think she's straight -- she's CERTAINLY uptight!" I opined.

        "Has she got a man?"

        "Never seen one."

        "Then the door may be open," Amy insisted.  "You never know.  Jeezus
I'm hot..."

        "I'd love to fix it, but I'm afraid I'd be tipping our hands," I
muttered.

        "Yeah."  She pushed off.  "Time for a little horseplay..."  She swam
over to Michael and pushed him, "Let's play tag!"  Over the next ten minutes
or so, she made Michael's day, going back and forth, having him chase her
and letting him cop feels.  I know she was grabbing his dick, and I figure I
got a skimmer full of boy cum from it.  They gradually teased Heather into
the game, although Michael watched himself around his sister -- and
eventually, I allowed myself pseudo-reluctantly to become engaged in the
game.  Amy was shameless -- she made sure you touched the goodies -- and she
pulled Heather aside and egged her on until she got brave.  The first time
Heather and I exchanged crotch-grabs, we had to take an intermission so the
girls could get together and giggle about it.  Michael gravitated to me.
"Wow!  Amy's hot!" he whispered.

        "Yeah, she's fuckable," I agreed.

        "Is she playing with your...?"

        "Yeah, she's shameless," I confirmed.  "We should double-team her
some time.  I bet she'd love getting two dicks at the same time."  Michael
snorted.  "I'm serious, Son -- she's waving the green flag.  Sometime when
your sister isn't around, Amy is gonna offer to bust your cherry for you, if
you play your cards right."

        "Speaking of Sis," Michael muttered.  "Is she getting grabby with
you?"

        "What if she is?" I retorted.  "I warned you.  I warned HER!  Do I
have to carry a sign or something?  If she pushes it too far, I'm gonna push
it inside her -- bet on it!"

        "She's too hung-up," Michael opined.  "Like Mom."

        "If she keeps hanging out with Amy, she'll loosen up," I predicted.
"About your mom -- does she have a boyfriend?  Where's your old man,
anyway?"

        "She's not dating or anything," Michael replied softly.  "Sometimes
she spends a long time in the bathtub -- you know?"

        "Yeah," I replied, "I know."  He'd caught her masturbating -- maybe
watched.  "Why isn't she seeing guys?"

        "I don't know," he muttered.  "She just... hides... since Dad left."

        "How long?"

        "Years.  I was seven."

        "Sorry, kid."

        Michael shrugged, but I knew he was hurt.  "It happens."

        "I'm around if you need a male opinion."

        "Yeah."  Michael grinned; we'd already bonded that way.

        "Women your mama's age need a man occasionally," I muttered.

        "Good luck!" Michael laughed.  "She's pretty resistant, I think."

        "Funny, I'm not seeing it -- not in the past day or so," I replied.
"Maybe it's the approach."

        "Maybe."

        "Is it a problem?"

        "No."  Michael shook his head.  "Maybe she will mellow out.  She
won't like it if you do Sis, though."

        I shrugged.  "It's all in the approach.  Your mama needs a supply,
and your sister needs to get it done right the first time so she appreciates
it properly.  I don't see me dating your sister, but she could do worse
getting me to pop her cherry."

        Michael grunted.  "Well, they're both off limits for me."

        "Amy isn't," I replied.  "Kate isn't, either."

        "Kate?" Michael's interest was sparked.

        "Her mama, too, if you're interested in getting something a little
older.  Guys your age ought to be broken in by older women -- they teach you
things," I told him, winking.  "Amy might know some of them, but I bet
Kate's mama has a whole list of little tricks that will help you get your
dick wet."

        "Wow!  I never thought of that!"  Whole new vistas opened up before
Michael's eyes.

        "There's fun to be had," I muttered, watching the girls watch us and
conduct what was probably a fairly similar conversation.  "How's Peter?"

        Michael looked a little bothered.  "Funny you should mention
Peter...  I get this feeling from him, sometimes..."

        "Like?"

        "Like, maybe he's..."

        "Gay?"

        "Maybe."

        "Don't close any doors," I advised.  "Guys suck cock better than
girls, because they know how it feels.  On the other hand, maybe you're
reading things wrong.  Peter has a lot of shit to deal with, you know?  He
might accidentally be sending off the wrong vibe.  I didn't see any
indications he's got an old man..."

        "He doesn't," Michael supplied.  "His mama works nights cleaning
buildings.  She smothers him."

        "There you go," I replied.  "He needs a friend."

        "Yeah..." Michael mused.  "Do guys really suck better?"

        I eyed him.  "There's only one way to find out."  He gulped and
looked away.

        We played grab-ass again, Heather getting increasingly brave; Amy
left at eight-thirty, promising to pick up Heather for work the next morning
at eight.  I put Heather in the guest room and we inflated one of those air
beds for Michael in my office.  I thought about taking him to bed after the
conversation we'd had, but decided it was just too chancy.  Jean slept the
sleep of the just on the couch.

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

        Jean sat up blinking as Heather hit the door the next morning;
Heather noticed it and kissed her, gave her a little hug, said, "Bye, Mom --
I have to go to work!" and hit the door while Jean was still blinking,
disoriented.  She sat up, trying to adjust her sundress, and I muttered,
"I'd have shucked you out of that thing so you were more comfortable, but I
didn't want to wake you up."

        Jean covered her tits -- which weren't showing -- and gave a little
shriek.  "Where am I?"

        "My TV room, where you went to sleep," I replied.  "I admit to being
sneaky -- I knew you were going to pass out when I told you to go lie down.
You needed it, bad."

        Michael stuck his head around the door and grinned, "Hi, Mom!"

        Jean rubbed her face.  "What time is it?"

        "Eight a.m."

        Jean looked surprised.  "What day?"

        "Saturday."

        "I slept fourteen hours?"

        "Yes.  I'd say it did you a world of good," I opined.  Michael
nodded his head.

        "I probably look a sight..."

        "Nah," I replied, "You generally look hot when you don't have bags
under your eyes and you're not dragging your knuckles on the ground looking
wasted.  Once you put that dress around frontwards and run a brush through
you hair, you'll be fine."

        "Wha--?" Jean looked down at herself.  Michael burst out laughing.

        I did, too.  "Sorry, I couldn't pass up the opportunity," I
apologized.  "Let me get you some coffee.  The bathroom is that way."  I got
up and walked out.

        A few minutes later, Jean was groggily sipping coffee.  "I must have
asked -- where is my car again?"

        "The shop.  I can give you the address and phone number," I replied.
"The guy is reputable.  It's due back on Monday night.  Drive the Saturn
until then."

        "And it's gonna cost how much?"

        "Around six hundred.  I asked them to use remanufactured parts to
keep the costs down.  You should sell that thing -- it's a piece of crap,
especially because it hasn't been maintained."

        "Why are you helping me?"

        "We'll start with 'because you need it.'  I'll think of other
reasons, eventually," I replied.

        "Heather has a job?"

        "So she tells me -- at a bookstore," I replied.  "We had a little
heart to heart yesterday morning after you left -- words to the effect that
a single application to an upscale coffee shop does not a job search make.
Then I pointed her at someone that had a sign in the window and she carried
the ball herself."  I took a sip from my own cup.  "She's a good kid -- just
not particularly motivated.  We give them too much and expect too little."
I sat for a moment, sipping, before asking, "So, now that you're not dying
of heat stroke, what are your plans for the day?"

        "I don't know."  Jean rubbed her face.  "I slept fourteen hours?"

        I looked up at Michael.  "Slow.  Very slow.  I can see how you rule
the roost over there."  Michael grinned.

        "What?" Jean rasped, irritated.

        "I think you need more sleep," I opined.  "You're still not
operating on all eight cylinders -- or however many you pack in there."

        She eyed me.  "I may not be all here, but I know when I'm being
insulted."

        "It was a test," I replied.  "I told Michael that when you started
biting back, you were on the road to recovery.  More coffee?"  I got up and
headed for the pot.

        "What would you recommend I do, then?" Jean asked as I turned back
to her with the pot.

        "Start a load of that ton of laundry your son dumped in the laundry
room, get into a bathing suit, and take a dip in the pool," I replied.  "Run
back and forth as necessary.  Read a book.  Get a tan.  Rest."  I poured
coffee into her cup.

        "I thought women went naked in your pool," Jean retorted.

        "Everybody does," I replied, silencing Michael with a look, "after
seven p.m.  Before that, swimsuits are merely optional."

        Jean frowned.  "I know I'm supposed to be grateful..."

        "If you're not, you're not," I interrupted.  "I stuck my nose in
where it doesn't belong.  I think the results justify the effort -- but
you're not required to agree with me."

        "Mom," Michael erupted with his hands on his hip, his face serious,
"you owe the man -- and you SHOULD say something nice to him -- but if you
can't, you should do what you tell me to do!"

        "What's that?" I asked.

        "Keep her mouth shut."

        "Michael!"

        "You're walking the line with that one, Bud," I advised.

        "Maybe, but I'm right!" Michael stuck to his guns.

        "Sometimes being fourteen trumps being right," I advised.

        "Please don't correct my children," Jean admonished me.

        "Too late, I'm afraid," I replied.  "Besides, I was merely offering
Michael some advice -- he can take it or leave it."

        Jean looked from me to Michael and back to me.  "I think I'll go
over and check on the house."  She got up and walked slowly out the slider.

        I looked at Michael.  "You need to go over there in about ten
minutes so she can give you a lecture about how bad an example I am."

        "I heard that!" erupted from the deck.

        "Forgot that slider isn't soundproof," I chuckled.  Michael grinned
from ear to ear, got up, and left.

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

        Eventually, they both came back -- in swimsuits.  Jean wore a demure
blue one-piece; I limited myself to, "Your midriff is gonna be fish-belly
white."  Michael, of course, loved it.  I went out to the grocery store
around two and was gone a couple of hours; when I got back, Heather was home
-- well, my home, anyway.

        "Amy says hi," she related.

        "Return the greeting when you see her next," I responded.  Jean had
that look, so I triggered the outburst as I put the food away, "What did I
do THIS time?"

        "I understand my son and daughter went swimming naked!"

        I pretended to think about it.  "Yeah, they did that.  You signed a
paper about the house rules.  I didn't push either one of them in the pool,
and I DAMN sure didn't undress anyone but me!"

        "I don't approve!"

        I shrugged.  "Tell 'em not to do it again.  I advised Heather to
discuss the whole thing with you first, but you were asleep and her friend
was more persuasive."

        "I see."  Jean turned a gun barrel gaze on Heather, who wilted.
"And Michael?"

        "He just went with the flow."  I eyed the kids.  "Is everyone
intact?"

        "Mister Putnam!" Jean erupted.

        "Call me Cletus," I said mildly, opening the refrigerator to place
some nectarines in it.  "Point is, they're still kids -- horrible things
didn't crawl up from the bottom of the pool and suck away their innocence.
YOU, on the other hand..."

        Jean frowned.  "What?"

        "The horrible things might be tempted.  I could ask them..."

        "Gawd!  You're incorrigible!"

        "At least," I agreed.  "Tea, anyone?"  I fished the jug out of the
refrigerator.

        "YOU, Young Lady..." Jean turned on her daughter.

        "Aw, Mom!" Heather howled.  "He's right -- nobody got raped or
anything.  Michael was there, Amy was there -- we had a good time!"

        "You've seen Mr. Putnam naked!" Jean objected.

        "I'll be naked again at seven o'clock," I interjected, "You needn't
feel that you've missed anything."  Michael snorted.

        "Out!  Everybody out!"  I'd gone too far; Jean felt too threatened.
"Back to the house, NOW!"  She turned on me, "You..."

        "You really need to learn to take a joke," I advised.  She turned
red and closed the slider.  I began to despair of getting into her panties.

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

        Sunday, they stayed away.  They did a lot of hot-looking yard work
in the afternoon; I got glares from the older generation and rolled eyes
from the younger when I looked over there.  I wondered if Jean was going to
remember at some point that she was driving my car...

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

        Monday afternoon at about two, the garage called.  "It's ready,"
Leo, my mechanic, related.

        "How much?"

        "Five twenty-five.  I got a deal on the parts.  There are a LOT of
those things in the junkyards," Leo replied.

        "How much life has that one got left?" I asked.

        "Ten thousand, maybe, before the engine comes apart -- IF the
transmission doesn't go first.  I did a lube oil and filter -- it needed it,
BAD."

        "Thanks, Leo.  Have someone drive it over and park it next door --
I'll settle up with him when he comes."  Leo had my charge card number.

        Heather got home at three-thirty -- and came through the back yard
before four in a bikini, with Amy following her.  "Cletus," she asked
sweetly, "Can we go for a swim?"

        I frowned.  "What did your mother say?"

        "She didn't specifically forbid it..." Heather replied evasively.
Amy grinned behind her like that evil cartoon dog, Muttley.

        "How come you want to start a war on MY property?" I asked,
pretending to be pained.  Worst case, I figured, Jean would get stupid and
kick Heather out -- and she and Amy would end up in my bed...

        "It's neutral ground for both of us," Heather responded.
"PLEEEEZE?"

        I pursed my lips.  "You're asking for trouble.  Your mama is gonna
hate my guts."

        "Well, I don't, and Michael doesn't -- and she can't watch us
twenty-four hours a day!" Heather retorted.  "Sooner or later, she'll cave."

        "And you want it sooner," I clarified.

        "Uh huh."

        "Fine."

        Heather put her fingers to her lips and gave a loud whistle.  In the
distance, I heard, "Yippee!"  Michael was coming.

        "I told Michael this the other day," I pointed out, "Just because
you're right doesn't mean you're gonna win."

        "I will, eventually," Heather replied, looking at Amy.  "It's part
of growing up, isn't it?"

        I pursed my lips and nodded, suddenly realizing the source of
Heather's backbone.  Well, Amy had nothing to lose if the graft didn't
take...  Michael blew right by, waving and yelling "Hi Cletus!" as he tossed
his towel on a lounger.  Heather turned to follow, and I confronted Amy.
"Aren't YOU the little master manipulator?"

        Amy grinned.  "Have I been bad?  Maybe you'll spank me..."

        I chuckled.  "That'd be fun.  You're a piece of work -- where are
your parents?  Sing-sing?"

        "Well, one of them, maybe," Amy giggled.  "The other one hasn't been
caught yet."

        "I should have guessed."  I patted her little chubby ass and walked
away, trying to figure out how I was going to handle this.

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

        Five-thirty came.  Jean parked my car in my driveway, walked over to
stand in front of hers in her driveway, and went inside her house.  In a
moment, she came boiling back out.  I went outside onto the deck as she
closed on target for her first broadside.  "What is this?"

        "What is what?"

        "Why are my children in your pool?"

        "They asked me and I said yes.  You didn't forbid them, did you?
Because they told me you didn't..."

        Jean stomped to the pool's edge, "You two come out of there!  What
are you doing here, anyway?"

        "We're swimming, Mom."  Heather's transplanted backbone seemed to be
functioning nicely.  "You're being a jerk.  He's been nothing but nice to
you..."

        "He insults me left and right!"

        "Only when you act stupid and stuuborn!"

        Jean stomped over to me.  "You don't own me!"

        "Lucky you," I retorted.  "I hear I can be very demanding!"

        "OH!"  She tossed my car keys on the table.

        "I'll get yours," I said blandly.  "Did you fill it?"  It was a
deliberated slap in the face, rubbing her nose in her ingratitude.  I didn't
stop for an answer.  When I came back, her face was fire engine red.  I put
her keys on the table next to mine.  "Good news -- the mechanic managed to
find inexpensive parts, so it was only five hundred and twenty-five dollars.
I paid him..."

        Jean nearly choked.  "Thank you," she managed to get out, then
turned to the children again.  "Get OUT of that pool!"

        "No!" Heather shouted back.

        I gravitated to the edge of the pool while Jean threatened, "If you
don't get out of there, Young Lady..."

        "Mom, do you have ANY IDEA what a total ass you're making of
yourself?"

        "HEATHER!  NOW!"

        Heather's face suddenly took on this crafty look.  "Fine."  She
reached down and undid the ties to her bikini top.

        "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Jean screeched.

        "I'm coming out of the pool," Heather replied reasonably.  By then,
she was holding both suit parts in one hand.  She swayed to the ladder.
"Cletus, Darling, go ahead and let Mom see your eyes bug out and your forked
tongue, okay?  If it will reach from there, you can lick me with it."  She
climbed up the ladder and turned to me.  "Do you like my trim?  Or do you
like your pussies bare?"

        "OMIGOD!"  Jean looked from Heather to me, horrified.

        "I'm sorry, Baby -- it isn't forked," I told Heather.  "At this
point, I kinda wish it was..."

        "This is disgusting!" Jean howled.  "What are you doing?"

        Heather rolled her eyes and spread her hands, "Mom, I got out of the
pool -- what ELSE do you want?  Besides, SOMEBODY has to show a little
gratitude for all he's done for us..."

        "YOU--!"  Jean ran at her daughter and took a wild swing -- and
Heather sidestepped it.  Jean's momentum carried her right over the edge and
she hit the water with a mighty splash for such a narrow thing.  She came
up, gasping and sputtering, and it was time to intervene.

        "Now you've done it, I'm afraid," I told Heather.  "You and Michael
help your mama out of the pool.  Have a nice life, because I doubt that
she's ever going to let you come back."  Jean splashed to the edge of the
pool and levered herself out, in high dudgeon.  I nodded to Michael and he
followed his mother and sister reluctantly.  I couldn't make heads or tails
of what Jean was screaming as she headed off to the house behind her
daughter.

        "That was ugly," I observed as I heard a door bang.  The windows
were wide open, so it wasn't as if I couldn't hear the altercation.  As far
as I could tell, Jean wasn't even using an intelligible language -- but then
she looked a little bit Oriental and I don't know any Oriental languages, so
she MIGHT have been...

        Amy swam to the edge of the pool.  "Boy, does SHE need to get laid!"
she observed.

        "She's a little high-strung," I agreed.  The sound of not one but
several slaps drifted over from the neighbor's house.  If I was right in my
interpretation of the sounds, Heather was returning blow for blow -- a bad
sign for mother-daughter relations.  "I never thought it would go this far."

        "Me, neither."  Amy eyed me owlishly.  "I guess I'll have to fuck
you three times to make up for them..."

        "I was HOPING to do them more than once!" I retorted.

        Amy put her wrist to her forehead.  "Poor me!  How WILL I bear up?"
I stuck my foot in the water and splashed her.

        "What will you do to compensate me for Michael?" I asked.

        Amy grinned.  "You love my ass -- I know you do!  I've seen the
looks you give it..."

        "WHERE have you been all my life?" I wondered aloud.

        Amy grinned.  "You needed for me to be young -- and you needed to be
experienced enough to appreciate me."

        I couldn't argue with that.

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

Despite -- or perhaps because of -- the uproar next door, we decided that
the time wasn't right to become too distracted by the pleasures of the
flesh; we didn't want to be fucking like bunnies when Jean showed up with a
shotgun.  So we went inside and listened on my fancy new directional mike
while I jiggled two fingers in Amy's puffy little pussy and she jacked me
off.  She was sweeeeet -- DAMN she was sweet!  Licking my fingers afterward
was the tastiest thing I'd done in a long time! I blasted a nut that
splashed under my chin from her hand job, too.  Then she put herself
together and swayed out of there so she could maintain her relationship with
Heather without too much in the way of complications.

        Honestly, the sounds didn't totally reveal just exactly how the war
was going over there -- there was just a lot of crying going on, as far as I
could tell.  I decided to shut it off and go about my business.