Chapter 14 - And When The Cats Are Away

Friday 7th July

“Morning, Babes,” Stef whispered as her gentle voice called me out of a restful and dreamless sleep.

“Good morning, cariad,” I said as I opened my eyes, looked into hers, and saw again how deeply, utterly, and irrevocably in love we were. “Sleep well?” I asked as I kissed the tip of her nose.

“In your arms? Always,” she smiled as she stretched herself out like a cat before rolling up on top of me as I lay on my back. “I think you need a wee...” she chuckled as she wiggled on my ‘clue’ as it rubbed up to her outie, my balls nuzzling against her smooth pussy.

“Time for a kiss first?” I asked as I made like a frog, my legs wrapping around hers, my ankles lightly pinning hers.

“Always, goofus,” Stef answered as our lips found each other’s and we kissed, lovingly more than passionately as I realised if Stef was already awake, it soon would be time to be on the roads.

“So ... ten minutes and garage?” I asked as we exercised restraint and concluded our kiss.

Stef nodded and kissed me fleetingly on the lips before she unentwined herself, slipped off the bed, and was silently gone.

Me? Not so much of the silently. I wasn’t trying to be noisy but I didn’t do that much to be quiet, thinking if anyone else was awake early, they’d assume the occasional noises were me clumsily trying to be quiet.

See, I can do sneaky, too.

With only a light ‘stumble’ I padded into the bathroom, converted my rampant ‘morning glory’ into relaxed ‘released relief’, quickly dressed back in my room, and was down in the garage and waiting in less than the mandated ten.

I was still getting my bike ready when Stef came in not more than a couple of minutes behind me.

“Oh, someone’s fast as well as suspiciously distractingly noisy,” Stef teased. Nothing got past her, and I’d’ve surprised if she hadn’t figured out what I’d been doing. Today she was dressed in her ‘old’ bib though with the straps crossed over her chest and over her cropped pale purple tee, the Lycra of the straps making sure her tee kept her boobs covered, though they did stretch the material tightly over them. It was a good look. Nice nipples.

In comparison I felt a little underdressed in just my ‘normal’ padded black cycling shorts and matching baggy black T, even if my T was a Team Nondescript football top that was made of that weird slippy synthetic material that was supposed to be better for exercising in.

“Me? Clumsy? Stumbling around? You noticed, then?” I asked as we snapped on our helmets, I opened the oiled-to-silent shutters, and we wheeled our bikes out.

“Noticed, approved, and appreciated. Now, have you got your phone with you today?”

“Fully charged and in a handy little holder,” I said, lifting my tee to reveal a holiday money belt modded into a chest strap.

“Smart, but wouldn’t it be more comfortable outside?” Stef asked as I closed the garage; her phone was in a conventional bumbag, though her ‘riding phone’ was a PAYG brick that wouldn’t matter if it got smashed in a fall. She also had one of those little saddle-mounted toolkits with a spare inner and a few tools, too; I needed to get me one from GeeGee’s next time we were nearabouts. All I’d managed in that respect was to remember to wash and refill our water bottles in their cages, quick release stylee for that sudden thirst.

“It’d be, yeah, but I’ve only got the one phone and it’s a nice one, so I don’t wanna advertise it...”

Stef nodded. “Fair. So. Route Nine today, then,” she announced. She had, I knew, a number of different routes, and before she set out she always sent a text to Mum and Dad telling them which route she was on so that, in an emergency, if she was late back, anything like that, they knew where to go looking for her.

None of it had ever happened, but she’d been smart enough to suggest it to them.

“Route Nine? Please don’t tell me that one’s got nine hills to it?” I asked as I sent my own messages.

Stef smiled. Threateningly. “Okay, so I won’t tell you that...” she said as we mounted up and headed off into a world made fresh again by last night’s storm.

“So, really not nine hills, then,” I said, the roller to the garage locking down as we put away our trusty steeds.

Stef shook her head. “Nuh-huh, but that is a good idea, a route with nine climbs. Ambitious! I like it!”

What had I done? “Oh it wasn’t really an idea, not even a suggestion. I mean, sure, nine hills can be a thing, but they don’t have to be mountains, after all, do they? More, what’s the word, oh, maybe gentle inclines?”

Stef grinned. “No, no, Luke. Nine hills? Now that would be something to work you towards. Maybe start trying some routes next week, you know, once the painters have left?”

“Uhm, once the what?”

Stef chuckled. “That a new one for you?”

I nodded, still not with it.

“You know why I - ahem - ‘can’t’ come with you on Tuesday?”

Oh. “Ah.”

Stef chuckled. “But right now I, erm, I need your help...” she said, her left eyebrow quivering.

“Oh?” I smiled, recognising the signs.

Stef nodded and grinned as she eased off her bib straps and lifted up her tee to reveal her lovely little tanned boobs, glistening with the sweat of the morning’s ride. “My nipples don’t feel right, Doctor. Could you examine them, you know, really thoroughly for me, erm, Doctor... ?”

“Is that wise?” I said as I nodded to the kitchen door. Both cars were in the driveway, so at least one of the ‘rents was probably up and having breakfast by now.

Stef shrugged. “But it’s an emergency...”

“Well, if it’s an emergency, I’m sure the Doctor will see you now,” I said, accepting that if she’d decided it was safe – or safe enough – I wasn’t the kind of brother who’d refuse to help his sister in distress.

“Is, is this okay, Doctor?” Stef asked as she backed up against the garage wall, half-removed her T so that it was behind her head, and lifted her arms straight up in erotic surrender to her ‘doctor’.

I grinned. “I shall let you know. Now, I intend to be thorough, as you have asked me to be, Miss Rowden, so please do speak up if I am being overly thorough,” I said, knowing Stef would understand I was giving her a way to say ‘whoa’ if she needed it.

Stef grinned. “I’ll let you know ... erm, Doctor,” she said.

“I love you, cariad,” I said, breaking character for a moment before I slid my hands up her sweaty sides to cup her little boobs.

“Love me, lover,” Stef whispered before she bit her bottom lip and waited.

You know, it’s really quite rude to keep your topless sweaty sister waiting.

So I didn’t.

Holding her boobs in my palms, I brushed my thumbs round her areolae a couple of times, but they were already swollen up so that every time I touched them Stef gasped softly. Of course I took this as a sign I was doing right and so I took a couple more trips around the roundabout, purely to make absolutely certain they were fully aroused.

Satisfying myself and Stef that all was good with her areolae, I swapped to roughly dragging my thumbs over her nipples, flicking her teats, almost, as I rolled them back on themselves, only for them to spring fatly back into place, pointing directly at me, every stretching bringing up a deep sigh from Stef.

“Your nipples seem remarkably sensitive, Miss Rowden. Are you quite certain you need further, uhm, examination?” I asked, stumbling over the unfamiliar role of a ‘doctor’ that went beyond getting naked and looking at what each had that the other didn’t.

“Please, Doctor! I feel you’ve not yet quite found the problem. Perhaps ... tweaking might help?” she asked, her tone soft as she knew I was a little ... unaccustomed to the idea that Stef found getting her nipples tweaked quite so pleasurable.

“As you wish, Miss Rowden,” I said as I trapped her teats between my thumbs and forefingers, and gave the gentlest of squeezes.

Stef hummed.

I squeezed again, a little harder this time, and added a slight twist to the ensemble.

Another hum, but only a little deeper. “Erm, Doctor?”

“Yes, Miss Rowden?”

“A little... harder?”

“You are the patient, Miss Rowden, but I would warn you, this may be quite sharp,” I said in my best bossy tv doctor’s voice.

“I’ll be brave, Doctor,” Stef smiled as she nodded, slightly, letting me it was okay to be a little more ... assertive.

So I asserted.

This time, I used more of the length than the tips of my thumbs and forefingers, trying to trap more of her teats as I pinched quite hard, not twisting this time, but sort of stretching her teats back up over my forefingers, almost as if I was trying to bend her teats back on themselves and touch her areolae with them.

I only got one try before Stef squeaked, grabbed my head, and jammed her tongue so far into my mouth I know she had found my tonsils, even though I’d had them removed when I was six!

As her tongue began to investigate my lungs I decided she’d maybe had enough for now, so I switched to caressing her boobs, gently stroking her areolae and nipples, not squishing and stretching them anymore.

It took a while but Stef finally calmed down and curled her tongue back into her own mouth.

“You’re ... okay?” I asked when I got control of my mouth back.

“Very! But it might only be for now...”

“Oh?”

Stef nodded. “Next time, more teeth!”

“Teeth?”

“Uh-huh, teeth. Luke, that was soo good, but next time I want you nip at my nips, lover.”

“Uhm, nip nipping? That’s a thing?”

Stef nodded vigorously. “It is for me, and it will be for you to do it to me, too. Now, shower and breakfast?” she asked as she got all business-like, again.

“Maybe put your tee on, first?” I suggested.

“Nobody home but us and ours...”

“True, but hard dark pink nipples that look like they’ve seen some ... attention? For breakfast? Might be a little too far?”

Stef looked down. “Oopsie, they are dark, aren’t they? Good work, Brother,” she said as she slipped her tee back on and strapped down her boobs again, making her really obviously hard nipples plain for all to see.

“Uhm, you’re still pointing at me...” I said.

Stef checked herself. “Well yes, I am, but I’m not the only one, am I?” she asked as she reached and stroked my cock through my shorts, tucked vertically, and clearly showing how much I’d enjoyed our little game of ‘doctor’, too.

“You know what they say about one hand clapping?” I asked.

“Uh-huh... ?”

“Maybe you can think of that as a one handed round of applause?”

Stef chuckled. “Very good, but let me help...” she said as her hand slid into my shorts, grasped my cock, and made sure it was fully aligned due north. “Better?”

I smiled. “Sis, your handling my cock is always going to be better.”

More chuckles. “Well, Doctor, if that is true, then I predict you will live a long and healthy life, as I will always be ready to ‘make it better’ for you.”

I smiled. “We are going to be forever, somehow, aren’t we?”

Stef nodded, and we kissed again, softly, lovingly, passion put aside until later, especially after both of our tummies complained about a lack of food, breaking our kiss with laughter.

Letting go of all but our hands, we stepped into the kitchen–

–where Mum was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping her espresso, dressed not in her trouser suit, but in a very loosely knotted silk robe, palest pink in colour, with small white roses on it. She looked really relaxed, and then I remembered last night and why that might be the case.

Ah.

Suddenly Stef’s lesson about thinking about boring things lurched to mind and I started wondering about the lack of a modern transport infrastructure connecting the towns and cities of Wales to the rest of the UK.

“Stef. Luke. You were a long time in the garage after you got back in?” Mum casually mentioned but had keenly observed.

Gulp.

“I had a slow puncture,” Stef said with startling speed. Had she planned that excuse in advance? “I was teaching Luke how to find them.”

“Did he?”

Stef shrugged. “He tried, but they’re not always easy to find, even with the tips of your fingers and they are supposed to be really sensitive,” she said.

I looked anywhere but at Mum as I wondered if an integrated transport infrastructure could include holes in the ground I could jump down.

Mum just nodded, however, taking Stef’s words at face value. There is a God!

Trying to distract attention to other things, I asked, “Mum? It’s coming on seven...”

“I know, but I will not going in today. Someone is needed to supervise the delivery from Llewellyn’s and it would not be fair to ask you to do that, so I have booked a day of coffee and relaxation.”

“When are they delivering?” Stef asked.

“Like every other delivery company, they refused to be drawn on a definite time, although they have agreed that delivery will be sometime before lunch. Now, if you two can manage to quickly take a shower, you may discover that your Mother, in her infinite and generous benevolence, will be cooking pancakes for breakfast. You have fifteen minutes if you want them served warm, covered with maple syrup, and accompanied by some streaky.”

WTF?

Mum was calmly promising us home-made pancakes when we got back downstairs, the kind of pancakes that’re so light and fluffy it’s like eating a doughy cloud.

But.

Mum was also all but telling us to take ‘a shower’ together.

It was absolutely definite this time, we were to take a single shower. Together. Mum’s orders!?

Time for humorous distraction.

“Pancakes in fifteen? Sis, please, let me get the door,” I said as I comically lurched for the handle.

“Thank you, Brother, but do hurry,” Stef said as she jog-trotted through and up the stairs.

“Fifteen!” Mum cried as I let go of the door and followed upstairs.

“No playtime today,” Stef said from her doorway as she turned her cycling clothes into laundry in scant seconds.

“The garage? That didn’t count, then?” I asked as I stripped and watched as Stef headed towards the bathroom, not even sashaying her bum as she ran. That didn’t stop me from waving a more-than-semi at her as I followed, of course; she was hot by any definition.

“Well yes, the garage counts, but we can’t play any more right now, goofus.”

“Oh, you mean we need to be really discrete with Mum around?” I checked.

“No.”

“No?”

“Luke, there are pancakes being prepared right now!” Stef said, laughing softly as I followed her into the cubicle, water came on, and we hastily soaped ourselves and each other with uncharacteristic restraint.

“Uhm, still gonna wash your hair?” I asked as the shower modules were dialling down.

“Be quick?” Stef asked as I took a healthy glob of shampoo, shared some with her, and we somehow double-teamed her hair and mine in new personal records.

“Rinse?” I asked as I finished the briefest of head rubs in the history of lavation and quickly rubbed my shampooy fingers through my own hair.

“Hurry?” Stef asked as the rainfall came back on, she worked the top of her scalp, and I worked the rest.

“Clear?” I asked as, Stef’s hair clean, we set to getting the soap off.

“Nearly,” Stef grinned as she grasped my cock, pulled back my foreskin, and gave me a cleansing caress or two. Or three.

I didn’t hurry her.

“Thanks, I didn’t know there was any soap in there,” I said as she popped the head back in its home.

“Oh you can never be too careful,” Stef grinned as she switched off the water.

“Well, thank you for your diligence,” I said as I handed Stef her towel, and we got to work drying off.

“Oh, I may need to be ‘diligent’ again, later. Oh. Erm, somehow...” Stef said as she suddenly remembered that Mum would be around, so we had to go back to being ‘normal’ brother and sister, whatever that meant anymore.

I grinned. “You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”

“You can come up with your own ideas, too, you know,” Stef gently suggested.

“I know, but all I’ve got at the moment are garage or a ride out to ‘our clearing’.”

Stef paused from drying her boobs, a really mesmerising thing to behold. Trust me, size was not an issue when she started ‘buffing her baby baps’. “A good first pass, Babes, but maybe we need to think outside the box, here?”

“We do?” I asked as I caught her watching me dry my balls.

She slowly dried her boobs for me again.

I gave my balls a completely unnecessary extra towelling.

Neither of us minded, and we both looked like we’d enjoyed our little shows.

Stef took my towel from me and hung it on the rack next to hers. “Maybe we could just go for a little ramble? We are right on the edge of town, and there is a lot of privacy on the other side of a hedge or two...”

“I like your thinking,” I said as I held the door for her, and we headed to our rooms.

“Thank you. So? Clothes for the day? Casual, I think,” she said.

“Casual it’ll be, then.”

“See you downstairs?”

“I won’t start without you.”

Stef grinned. “Oh I know that. After all, those who do might discover that a ramble can be cancelled at a moment’s notice...”

“Oh we couldn’t have that,” I chuckled as Stef disappeared into her room, and I stepped into mine.

So? Hot weather, casual clothing, possible rambling clothing, and nothing that might tip Mum off about anything.

It was time for me to go ‘full Luke’.

From my collection of tees I selected one of my older ones that would probably not make it past the end of the summer, an awful mashup claiming to be a Tolkien quote from Harry Potter telling Kirk to trust in the Force. I liked it, if only for the screams when I wore it to Kosmos.

From my collection of cargo shorts, also probably not to be a ‘thing’ after the summer if I was going to try and dress up a little to Stef’s and Leri’s standards, I went for army brown, more cack-y than khaki if truth be told.

Underneath I opted for the classic plain boxers of black.

Socks, however, I decided against; in that, at least, I could still be a rebel.

Suitably attired – or so I thought – I headed downstairs in search of the source of smells of wonderfulness that had begun to make their way up from the kitchen.

“Hey, Mum,” I said as I entered the kitchen, Mum busy working magic on the cooker.

“Son. If you’re planning on an espresso to accompany your breakfast...”

“You’d like one as well?”

“No thank you, Honey,” she answered, it being a very gentle joke that Mum sometimes took her breakfast in an espresso cup. “However, I was going to suggest, if you heat some milk to make a latte, you might find your drink lasts as long as your pancakes.”

“So that’s lots of pancakes?” I asked hopefully as I poured milk into a cup and popped it into the microwave, pretty much the only reason we used one.

Mum chuckled. “Three each for you and your sister, and a couple for the chef. If you want to stretch your meal out, maybe try chewing them?”

“Chewing. Hmm. Interesting idea. I’ll give it a go but I’m making no promises.”

“That’s okay, Honey. It’s a long time since I Heimliched someone so hard that I heard their ribs crack...”

Subtle. “Chewing. Definitely go for that, then.”

“Some of what?” Stef asked as she walked in. She’d gone for a summer dress, yellow, what looked like daisies printed on it, quite short, sleeveless, and vee-necked which, for Stef, meant you could see her chest, but not her boobs.

“Eating in an orderly manner,” Mum said, smiling to me. “Also, I believe he has put enough milk into the microwave for two to take their espressos milky or latte.”

“Cool. Just don’t make mine leche.”

“Certainly. Uhm, what’s ‘letchy’ coffee?”

“You mean café con leche? If it’s fifty-fifty milk and espresso, it’s con leche,” Stef explained.

“Impressive,” Mum said.

“Thanks. When I go to a coffee shop, I want a latte, not con leche. If they know what I mean, I go back.”

“So there are–” was as far as my question got as the microwave went ‘popty-ping’, I pressed the ‘go’ button of Mum’s Miraculous Machine, and the coffee got underway, letchy or otherwise.

“Luke? Drinks ready?”

“Yes, Mum,” I said as I finished pouring espressos over hot milk, making sure I got the more ‘letchy’ coffee.

“Good. Plates ready?” she asked as breakfast neared completion.

“We are,” I said as I passed Stef her plate, grabbed one for me, and we went to stand in line. Coffees could wait.

“First!” Mum called, Stef went forward, and was rewarded with three pancakes and three slices of streaky bacon.

“Next!” Mum called, and I was rewarded with the same.

“Last,” Mum said as she served herself, two-and-two not three-and-three like us, before she sat down with us as we all sipped, savoured, and swallowed our breakfasts in a happy quiet broken only by the birdsong from the garden and the dulcet tones of Radio 3 as something happened in a chamber that sounded more like birdsong than the birds did.

“So, what are your plans for today?” Mum asked as the eating died out. “I take it from your clothing you have already realised that lying around nude in the garden is not on the cards?”

We nodded.

“Of course, if you were to wear a bikini...” Mum mused, but her muse had failed her.

“Mum! I’ve only just lost my tan lines!” Stef gasped in mostly mock horror.

Mum chuckled. “So you plan on waiting for the afternoon?”

Stef nodded.

“Well, I suppose you could go into town and buy some more bedding of your own choice, couldn’t they, James?” Mum said–

–as Dad walked into the kitchen, and he wasn’t dressed for work, either?!

Mum was home, in a silk wrap.

Dad was home, in a matched set of royal blue sleeping shorts and tee.

It was long past the time they should have both been dressed, if not on their way to work.

What. Was. Going. On?

“Shopping instead of stepping around who knows whom carrying furniture around the house? I feel sure Stef will take that option, Dear,” Dad teasingly agreed. “Stef, if I add the monies to your card, you can make sure Luke is sensible?”

“Huh?” I asked.

“Uh-huh. Erm, Daddy, would that be for five hundred count Egyptian cotton?” Stef asked. Carefully. Making fun of and in no way actually using her ‘little girl’ voice.

Before Dad could answer, I asked, “Is Egyptian cotton a good thing? Uhm, ‘sensible’? And if it is, do I get to get that ‘good thing’ as well?”

Dad looked at Mum and nodded. Once. That was the ‘asking’ nod.

Mum nodded back. Once. That was the ‘agreeing’ nod.

Dad smiled. “I think since it is something of a special occasion, your first adult beds, as it were, then yes, I’ll add the necessary funds that you may both ‘go Egyptian’.”

“Wow! Really? Thanks Dad ... who’s confusingly also Not Dressed For Work,” Stef said.

“They call it overtime, Sweetie,” Dad said as he sniffed theatrically, looked longingly at our plates, sighed, and shuffled the walk of the condemned man towards the cereal bins.

“Relax, James, you can have the same as we are having,” Mum said as she got up. “I was just waiting until you were ... up.”

Oh. God.

Parental innuendos? At the breakfast table!? I wasn’t ready for that. Ever.

“Erm, Dad, I thought you had to be at work and late to get overtime?” Stef asked as she distracted me from further worry about what else Mum and Dad might have in mind with their mutual day off work.

“Normally that would be correct,” Dad said as he took Mum’s place at the kitchen table. “However, this is the kind of overtime when the client’s servers are failing intermittently, they refuse to consider work-day downtime, yet they are willing to pay for on-site oversight for the duration of the weekend. What this further means is that you and your brother are on your own this weekend, your mother and I will be in Cardiff, a ‘working date weekend’, I suppose you might call it.”

Stef and I exchanged a look.

We were going to be on our own for the weekend!?

We had new double beds being delivered this morning?

I was sure I could hear the stars aligning.

“Now, you can go shopping this morning, or at any time over the weekend,” Dad said. “However, you are to be here for lunch, no later than one, so that we can eat together before your mother and I make an early start of things.”

“Yes, Dad,” we chorused.

“Good, now that is settled,” Mum said as she put Dad’s plate under his nose and lost his attention entirely. “I need to change into something more suitable for supervising lusty young men from Llewellyn’s. Children, if you do go out, phones and keys.”

“Phones!” I realised.

The ‘rents turned and looked at me.

“Uhm, can I get a bit of an advance or something, so I can buy a brick for cycling?” I asked.

“And that would be why?” Mum asked, not saying ‘no’, just saying ‘explain this’.

“Okay, I’m not saying it’s Stef’s fault–”

“Good!” Stef grinned.

“-but she did say it would be a good idea for me to have a phone with me when we go out in the mornings. And it would. She’s got her brick she uses for cycling, but another isn’t a bad idea, and it means if something happens to one of our phones or we get separated or something, someone can still call one of you. I took my normal phone with me this morning, but I don’t need a ‘mega phone’ as an emergencies phone, it isn’t much waterproofed, and if we’re riding and it starts raining, I’ll kind of be suddenly ‘unphoned’.”

Dad nodded. “I take it this is to be a basic model PAYG handset? Perhaps the re-launched 3310?”

“Like we used to have?” Mum asked, like Stef and I had any idea what they were talking about. Did they have mobiles back then? I wisely didn’t ask.

Dad nodded. “That seems reasonable, Luke, very sensible, in fact, so yes, your sister will have the money for that added to her card, also. Don’t pout, one transaction is easier to do.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Now that is all settled, again,” Mum said. “James? Would you feed the dishwasher before you come up... ?”

“Of course,” Dad said as he quickly set about his final pancake.

“Don’t be ... long, Dear. We have things to do this morning if we are going away for the weekend,” Mum said as she headed for the kitchen door, and was gone.

“So, Son, you and your sister are intending to take a shopping trip this morning?” Dad asked, his breakfast already gone. I now knew what ‘indecent haste’ looked like and meant.

I looked over to Stef.

I looked up to the ceiling where Mum’s and Dad’s room was.

I looked to Stef again.

I looked to Dad.

“Yeah, I think we’ll go shopping, won’t we, Sis?”

Stef suddenly found a cough in her cup as she figured out what I’d figured out, figured out where I didn’t want to spend the morning, and figured out I’d rather go shopping than be anywhere close to the epicentre of whatever Mum had in store for Dad. “Uh-huh,” she finally agreed.

Dad nodded. Perhaps he’d been reading my expressions as he explained, “Remember, Son, although you may see shopping as a thing to be done, a chore, almost, but not everyone sees it in those terms. Some, often women as the jokes go, but many men too, they see it as an experience, complete in itself. The parade of the new, the calculations of what to replace, what to keep, what to rearrange, all of this and more give meaning to the experience of shopping. Perhaps when you go to Kosmos, how you feel there, because that is a place whose products you find value in, that is how others feel in other shops. Of course, for the man who carries the bags for his wife, his girlfriend, his sister, for him there will always be the opportunity to garner some ‘bonus points’, too, and I can assure you, Son, you can never have enough ‘bonus points’ in the bank.”

“Uhm, thanks, Dad. I guess I’d never thought of it like that.”

Dad smiled. “Not many men do, but now you know that the secret to a happy life for a man is a happy life for the women in his life. You understand?”

I nodded. Odd how he’d said ‘women’ and not ‘woman’. Just an expression, I guessed.

Another smile. “Until lunch, then,” he said and then he, too, was gone, headed upstairs.

“You see!” Stef said. “Even Dad knows shopping is not just sublimated sex.”