“These fucking dandelions.” A man of late middle age was talking to his neighbor, waving his arms over the parkway of their modest suburban neighborhood, tract homes which adjoined Mat’s section of the city. The second man crouched over a small lawn spreader; he was struggling to pour from an oversized sack of weed-n-feed. A faint plume of fertilizer dust drifted knee-high across the sunny sidewalk where Mat and the two Allen sisters were walking. Mat was in the middle, Julie, nubile and nineteen, held his left hand, and Pat, older by a few years but especially voluptuous in a low-cut spring frock, held his right.

“Did you see how he was getting it on his shoe?” Mat said once they were out of earshot.

“What a pair of grumps,” was Julie’s comment.

“Yes, but he’s right, you know,” said Pat. “Look at all these dandelions. What a wonderful abundance of innocent sex!”

With the word “sex” she gave Mat’s hand a warm, gentle squeeze, an in the same instant Julie mirrored the touch with the lithe fingers of her little hand. Such synchrony Mat had come to expect, but he was still amazed the way the sisters invariably made his spirits soar, and he was immensely pleased by these tender jolts of contact. He was thinking he might say something about it, about this pleasure, about what a wonderful spring day it was, and how fine an idea it was to take this late afternoon walk; but maybe such sentiments were a trifle too sappy for words. Must be all this pollen in the air, he thought, and he ended up simply returning the sisters’ squeeze. The three walked on a few paces in a sunny cloud of well-being.

Just then Mat noticed the moppet on a tricycle churning toward them, head down, bare little knees pumping ridiculously fast.

“Watch out!” Pat started to say, but the kid kept coming, plowing right at Julie.

Without letting go of Mat’s hand, Julie leaped into the air, scissoring her lean legs wide apart at the perfect moment to let the triking tot rattle on through.

“Whew!” said Mat. “Where’d you learn to jump like that? I’d’ve gotten creamed.”

“Me too,” Pat said. “That’s why I let Julie tag along—she always attracts the dangerous ones, and she’s always able to escape unscathed.”

“You could have jumped him,” Julie said to her sister, “Except maybe that you’re wearing that pretty dress. I knew there was a good reason for my wearing jeans.”

Mat looked over his shoulder. The kid had veered his tricycle off the sidewalk and crashed it into the lawn-spreader. The tricycle seemed to be grazing at a mound of lawn food. Sternly the two men stared at the boy, but he paid them no heed; he sat on the grass with his chin on his knee watching Mat and Pat and Julie walking away.

“Do you think he’s OK?” Mat asked.

“Men!” Pat scoffed. “See all the trouble they get themselves into just because they can’t keep their eyes off a pretty lady’s ass.”

“Whose butt are we talking about here?” Mat asked.

“Not yours, that’s for sure,” Julie said.

“Although you do have a very pretty one,” Pat said.

And simultaneously the sisters squeezed.

Soon the walk took them into a meadow surrounded by thick forest.

“It’s so peaceful,” Julie said.

“Can you believe all these dandelions?” Mat said. “Hard to believe the city’s just a couple of miles away.”

Pat laughed.

“What?” Mat said.

“What you said about the city,” Pat said. “I was just wondering what it would be like if everyone went to work wearing nothing but bright yellow socks.”

They walked on a ways thinking about what Pat said.

“This looks like a good spot,” Julie said, stopping.

“A good spot for what?” Mat said.

“A good spot for playing dandelion,” Pat said.

Julie bent down and plucked one.

“Look at it,” she said, showing it to her sister. The silver puff shone in the late sun.

“How come you picked a dead one?” Mat asked.

“It’s not dead,” Julie said. “It’s just at its peak.” She twirled the stem between her fingers. The plump plume danced with sunlight. A drop of milky sap seeped from the cut. “Doesn’t the color look a lot like Mat’s cum?” she asked her sister.

“I think you’re right,” Pat said, and then she blew. Seeds burst into the air. One tiny strand clung to the bare core. Pat moved her mouth an inch from the nearly naked blossom. For a moment Mat thought she was going to take it into her mouth, but instead she sucked her breath in and then blew out sharply. The tiny fiber vanished in air. “Hm,” Pat said after a few seconds, “Do you suppose that’s what a guy’s orgasm is like?”

“Let’s find out,” Julie said. “Lie down,” she told Mat.

“Here?” he asked.

“The perfect spot,” Pat said. “Not a thistle in sight.”

Mat lay down cautiously in the dandelion covered meadow, and Pat and Julie helped him removed his clothing.