Chapter 4

Sherry stood right there in the autumn sunlight and smiled and said "Come over an' let me play with that weenie!" Then she disappeared into the back door of her trailer.

Okay, Lane, don't be obvious. I did finish cleaning the trash out of my car. I did wheel the trash bin back to its normal location. I did wash my hands and face. And I did walk over across the little yard separating our two trailers without either sprinting OR skipping. And I knocked.

The door popped open and her hand grabbed the front of my shirt, dragging me inside.

No sooner had the door closed behind me, she had me pushed against the dryer, kissing me.

At close range, she asked, "Did you miss it?"

"Yeah, I really did."

"Me too. You got a talent, bud."

"Nice to know."

"Look, I ain't expecting YOU to eat me. I mean, another guy's been there, and it'd freak me out if it was me in the same position. But I know you've been doin' without." Giggle. "And I miss my little boy with the big weenie."

By this time she had my pants undone, puddling down around my feet. Right there in the laundry room, she knelt and worked over the front of my tightie whities.

"Sherry ... My knees are gonna buckle..."

"Come on. Strip."

I learned to take orders a long time ago.

"Right there on the sofa." I was sitting on the sofa, lounging back, actually, legs spread. She stripped down to panties and put herself into my arms, kissing me like she was making up for lost time, letting me loose on those titties, leaving her own marks on my chest in reprisal.

And then she slid down. Yeah, I missed it. I missed it a lot. A lot. Also a term to describe the size of the load she had squirting out of me in what seemed to be only fractions of a second after she nipped her way around my balls and then up my shaft before she pushed her lips down over me.

And she didn't stop. Kept going. Sherry, master of Lane's double orgasm. Ably demonstrated by one, enjoyed almost to the point of loss of consciousness by another.

Then she curled up on the sofa next to me, so much resembling a kitten. Laid her head in my lap. So, I have a kitten laying in my lap. I petted her, stroking that dark brown hair, tracing the edge of her ear.

"You did miss me, huh."

"Yeah, I did."

"You think that by Tuesday it'll have been long enough?"

"Yeah ... I've ... I'm sorry. I never knowingly followed another guy..."

"I understand. And I have another set of batteries, but the ol' rabbit's kind of lost his shine. Lane's got a tongue on 'im."

She was, I don't know, kind of glowing.

And me, I'm NOT supposed to be getting all enraptured by another guy's wife, even one who delivers blowjobs that rank on the Saffir-Simpson scale. And getting all goggle-eyed about your neighbor's wife in a trailer park, oh, come on, Lane, what are you thinking?

Still, it was way past 'kinda nice'.

"I'm glad we didn't have to wait," she said.

"Wait?"

"Yeah, I need to go visit my other aunt this afternoon and I thought I wouldn't get a chance to get my weenie until this evening."

"I'm glad you didn't have to wait either. I was gonna postpone a visit to my brother's if I needed to."

She smirked. "Is he gonna notice the wobbly knees?"

"No, but the permanent grin might make him wonder."

"Lemme tighten up the grin for you, then. And I have to go." She dropped back between my legs, turned her face up to keep our eyes connected as she took my dick into her mouth. "Mmmmmm. I almost missed a drop."

She stood up. I started dressing, and when I finished, she was tugging her sweatshirt down over her head. When her head popped out, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her. She laughed when we parted lips.

"Tuesday," she said. "I want MINE Tuesday."

She got hers Tuesday. I was still trying to parse Monday, though.

I came home, fully expecting to find Lee there. I had laundry to do, a task I left for her, because after all, her doing housework was a tenuous thread of an excuse to keep her showing up. When I got home, though, Lee met me at the door.

"Hi," I said.

"I did your laundry. Emptied and loaded the dishwasher. Vacuumed. I'll be back Thursday."

"No dinner?"

"Nope." Tersely.

"You sure?"

"Nope. Not tonight."

And she walked up the drive and turned up the street and forgive me for having watched enough to notice that this walk didn't have the spring in it that I'd seen last week.

So Tuesday, I pull into the driveway, her back door pops open and she walks out.

"Dinner first?"

"Sure. Lemme go shower."

"I'm doing that, too," she smiled.

Who remembers dinner? I do remember a knot of arms and legs in the middle of the bed with a squealing brunette pushing my head face-first into her pussy. And laying crossways afterward, her laughing.

"What's funny?"

"We never dirty the sheets when we do it." She giggled. "Neither of us waste a drop."

"Yours is too good."

"Mmmm. Yours too," she said, wiggling up to kiss me. "But we're gonna shred the sheets. I just have to GRAB something!"

"I happily provide that service," I said.

"I'm afraid to do permanent damage," she said.

"You have. It's on the inside," I laughed. "I think you've ruint me for blowjobs."

"Stoppit!" she said. "Nothing permanent."

"I know. Just saying. Not saying it's a bad thing."

She smiled enigmatically. The remainder of the evening went into small talk, and then I went home. Yes, knees did indeed wobble.

Thursday was Lee's other day at the house. Again, she gave me a list of what she'd done and she started for the door.

"Lee," I said, "what about dinner."

"No. Not tonight." Her eyes looked down.

I'm not completely stupid. "Lee, is something wrong? Did I say something wrong?"

"No. You didn't say anything. I just..."

"You just – what?"

"Nothing." Tight lips. Brow knit. Eyes active, hot.

I know this one. "Bailee Johnson, my little friend, I am NOT an ignorant person. I know that when a woman says 'nothing', the last thing she means is 'nothing'. If you don't want to tell me, your friend, then fine, but don't fib to me."

Her face hardened visibly. "I'm not stupid either, Lane. I know what lipstick is."

"Huh?"

"I do your laundry, Lane. I know what lipstick is. Like on your underpants."

Parts of me felt loose inside, broken up by several boulders tossed at me all at once.

"And I recognize the color."

Okay. That's something...

"You and my COUSIN..."

"Consenting adults, Lee..."

"She's married, Lane."

"I know. And she wants to stay that way."

"Funny way of doing it." She crossed her arms. "How could ... You ... her ... does Ted know?"

"No."

"I suppose he wouldn't now, would he?"

I was being grilled by an eighteen year old and I was sweating.

"Lee, what's this about?"

"I don't know, Lane," she said. "I mean, I sort of had you starting to be my friend, and I didn't know about this stuff."

"Lee, I love being your friend. You're a neat person. I like doing things with you. You're fun to talk with. But I'm an adult male. You gotta have thought that just maybe I might have sex with somebody..."

"Not my freakin' COUSIN!" she hissed. "My MARRIED cousin."

"Look, Lee. I don't why I'm telling you this. It probably doesn't make a difference because you already know and even if I ask you NOT to tell anyone, and you agree, that's no guarantee. This is all a big mess, but Sherry and I have not had intercourse."

"Oh, yeah, sure. She's biting the front of your shorts, and you're not doin' it."

"Depends on your set of 'it'. No intercourse."

"OH, that makes it MUCH better."

"Well, sweetie," I said, not noticing that I called her ANOTHER pet name, "different people have different ways of setting limits."

"So you sweet-talk your neighbor's wife and she's figured out a way to feel less guilty."

"True. Except for the part where I sweet-talked my neighbor's wife."

"This was HER idea?"

"Yes. Lee, you can't tell ... She doesn't need to be hurt. Neither does Ted. All it would do is hurt them. I'm just a step up from masturbation."

"I know about masturbation. That's a BIG step. And where's Lane in all this talk about who gets hurt?" She snorted. "Oh, wait a minute." Her face took on a horrid look." Gramma says 'be careful. A stiff dick has no conscience.' As long as you get yours..."

"I used to be like that, Lee. And why in hell am I telling YOU this?"

"That 'friend' thing, remember. Or maybe it's 'mentor'. But that's all on really shaky ground right now."

"Anyhow, Miss Sarcasm, I used to be like that. I stopped a long time ago. I didn't start this..."

"Oh, yeah, I knowwwww. There you were, working in your yard, an' Sherry came chargin' out with a club and bonked you on the head an' dragged you into her lair and you woke up with lipstick on your pickle..."

Okay. I caught just a hint of the upturn of the corner of her mouth. An opening. Go for it. "You're horrible, you know..."

"Actually, I'm proud of myself. I often feared having this conversation with a boyfriend I'd caught cheating on me. It's a lot more fun having the conversation when you're NOT my boyfriend and you DIDN'T cheat on me. You just got caught."

I read her eyes. "So. Dinner?"

She tried to look outraged. Couldn't quite get there. "I suppose so."

"I was miserable, you know..."

"When was the misery level highest? When you were doin' my cousin?"

"That's not fair."

"Okay," she smirked. "I'll stop." Giggle. "Fun, though."

"What's fun?"

"Having something on you."

"Blackmail?"

"Such an ugly word. Would one friend blackmail another?"

Okay, so she's back to the crooked smile of hers.

"Well lemme shower and change clothes. See you in about an hour?"

She gave me an enigmatic look, mostly a smile, as she left.

In the car headed to a Mexican restaurant, I asked. "Why? Why did you get upset?"

"I dunno. I guess ... Well, you're just this nice, friendly guy ... I watched Mom and guys. And Gramma and guys. And I thought that it wasn't always the guy. And I'm not Mom or Gramma, so I thought maybe you weren't the guy. And I'm not Mom or Gramma, so I mean, you and me..."

"You're an interesting person, Lee. I don't have a lot of friends outside work. Only relative I have close is my brother. When you acted interesting and interested, I wanted to be your friend."

"See," she said. "That's how I saw us. Friends. I read somewhere that it's good to have friends of different ages and from different backgrounds and such. If you match, I mean."

"Yeah. That 'match' thing, though, that's kind of nebulous."

"Nebulous," she giggled. "You're the first person I ever heard use that word in conversation."

"You're the first one in a long time that I thought would know what it meant."

"It hurt, you know."

"What hurt?" I asked.

"Thinking you couldn't be my friend."

"Why couldn't I be your friend?"

"I wanted my friend to be moral, you know..."

"I am, mostly..."

"Except..."

"Are you telling me to stop seeing Sherry?"

"Seeing her ain't the problem. It's the rest of that stuff. And no, I guess I'm not. I don't know why I'm not. I guess I have my own way of setting limits. I think it would be hard to be your friend if you were trying to take another man's wife."

Okay, now here's where I am. I know that Sherry says I'm not taking her from Ted. I've pretty much relegated myself to that. I mean, I don't know how I could do that and not run the risk of getting shot when he found out, and I don't think, silly me, that a woman who leaves ONE husband for another guy just might not be the best candidate for a long term relationship.

"I'm not trying to take another man's wife."

"Okay. I'll accept that at face value."

Dinner. Enchiladas for her. Fajitas for me.

On the way home. "I was thinking of asking you something, Lane. Before all this hit me."

"What's that?" My antennae were fully extended. This was a high delta evening. Lots of changes.

"Well, would you mind if I sort of hung at your house to do homework? Gramma's is kind of, I dunno, strange, of late. She's got this guy who's there just about all the time. Her ... it's a little trailer."

"You can't use your bedroom?"

"I can, but it's small, and like I said, just not the best place. If it makes you uncomfortable, though..."

"Nope. You have a key. My house is your refuge." And inside the dark recesses of my own mind, I thought 'What did you just do?' "You can leave when I get home, or you're perfectly welcome to stay."

"Good. I'm sorry, Lane."

"Sorry? About what?"

"About shutting you out. I shouldn't have. It's just ... It's ... I wanted to LIKE you. I guess I got silly, thinking all white knights and shining armor and fairy tale stuff. People're real. Not black and white, just varying shades of grey."

"You don't have to be sorry, Lee. Friendships are like that, too. Some are better'n others. Some get so bad that they fall apart."