Will was still sketching.We stayed at the ranch for supper, and while the folks and Bessie talked over coffee, Will and I went upstairs with Dan and B...th. Afterwards, we left for home.Before Will and I went up to bed, he said, "Lucy, Sam, I thought you might like this." He gave them a sheet from his pad.They were making love in the clearing, out in the open, their passion joyful and pure. To one side, separate but close enough to be a part of their happiness, was I.Mom hugged Will for a long. She could tell it was him but it wasn’t. He wasn’t skinny exactly but he wasn’t fat anymore and her lust for him rose up to a new height and it was all she could do just to sit there and not throw him on the floor and rip his clothes off. The clatter of her fork and knife against the table as they slipped from her shock numbed fingers brought his head up from putting butter and syrup on the two plates of waffles. Seeing here staring at him as if he grew a third head he looked down at himself to. She met me at the door nearly in tears. “The basement…it’s its filling up with water,” she stammered. “Please can you do something?”, she pleaded. She was now sobbing. Despite the gravity in her voice, I couldn’t help but notice how her tits heaved in her low cut blouse as she cried. “Sarah,” I said calmly, “Let me have a look at it and I’ll see what I can do, OK?” She hugged me close and I could feel those 44DD’s pressing against my chest. “Thank you, Tom, thank you so much.” I walked over. The Martin cabin was a duplicate of mine but had an additional bedroom, probably where Amy slept. ‘What do you do for a living, Bud?’ Fran asked as we ate. ‘I’m a writer,’ I said. ‘I’m supposed to be finishing a novel I’ve promised. That’s why I’m here for the summer, to get away from distractions and write.’ ‘That sounds exciting,’ Fran commented. ‘What kind of books do you write?’ Amy inquired, licking her lips invitingly. Or was that my imagination? ‘Right now I’m doing a detective novel,.
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