Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by Ray Wilder

Chapter 41: Patty

This is a work of fiction. All the characters, events and locations
portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons,
events or locations is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 1996. All rights, implicit or implied, except for
distribution by this archive and personal use by the individual downloading
the file, are reserved. Inquiries regarding publishing rights for this book
should be directed to: raywild@aol.com

========================================

	Patty could think of several hundred million places she would
rather be than where she was now. Which was on the floor of her sister's
living room with three obnoxious no-neck monsters using her as a
trampoline. When her sister commented that Patty was so good with the
children she silently wished she possessed something long, hard and tubular
that shot projectiles. The image of Arnold standing in front of her
apartment door with his huge member lying in the palm of her hand quickly
changed her mind. Actually, she still wished for it, she just wished she
were away from here with it.
	The three brats were only part of her reason for wanting to be
somewhere else. Several other items fought for the top of her list:
	A) Her sister, Betty, was being especially asinine this evening.
	B) She couldn't get her mind off Arnold; fantasies of what her
encounter with him the next evening was going to be like constantly
intruded on her train of thought.
	C) Then there was Bob, Betty's husband.
	Patty had been making these mercy trips (as she called them) every
few months for the last four years. The reason she kept coming back was
because of Bob. He treated her with respect, was absolutely enthralled with
her body, from an aesthetic point of view only, and never, ever, got as
much as a hair out of place. No matter what the kid's did, no matter how
goof ball Betty got, Bob was steady and understanding, patient, and loving.
	Until now.
	Patty realized there had to be moments in every relationship when a
couple didn't see eye to eye on certain matters, even the occasional
difficulty in settling differences. In fact, she had always marveled at how
smoothly Bob handled Betty and the kids, defusing a potentially nasty
situation before it had a chance to get out of hand. She had learned a lot
from Bob; had used the techniques she had seen him employ in her own
personal and business dealings. So what the hell was going on here?
	From the moment Patty walked through the front door that afternoon,
Bob had been a bundle of nerves. Every little thing that anyone did upset
him. He had already blown his stack a couple of times for no apparent
reason and the slightest contradiction from the kids or the least little
frustration triggered a tirade. Patty had always known that dealing with
her sister would try the patience of Job. But this was Bob. Steady,
wonderful, loving, caring Bob.
	And what the hell was wrong with Betty? She acted as though nothing
were wrong. An idiot could see that something was amiss with her husband,
how inappropriate his behavior was, and yet Betty seemingly ignored
everything. Patty even got the feeling that her sister was actually
condoning his behavior. She was trying to think of some way to confront her
brother-in-law when Bob finally blew his stack and forced the issue,
himself.
	After several minutes of kids bouncing on Aunt Patty, Bob came
pounding down the stairs and yelled at them to move their activities
outside. The two older ones responded immediately, but Suzy, the youngest
of the three and the second youngest of the family, failed to grasp the
necessity of complying with her father's angry demand. Bob yelled at her
once again. Patty decided she was as much at fault for the children's
behavior as they were so she scooped Suzy up, put the child on her
shoulders and carried her through the dining room to the kitchen and the
back door.
	She was swaying back and forth to give the kid a bit of a thrill
and the little girl was flailing her arms about, trying to catch her
balance. Patty walked past some open shelves mounted on the wall just
inside the kitchen and the child's outstretched hand caught a small glass
vase which tumbled to the floor and shattered.
	Patty recognized the vase as one that had been filled with flowers
she had picked up in a shop several years before on her way into town. The
place had been loaded with them, so there was no intrinsic value to the
piece. In fact, Patty always brought flowers, sometimes in a vase,
sometimes not, so there was nothing special about the event. She set the
child down in the kitchen and went to get the broom and dust pan out of the
closet next to the refrigerator. As she was opening the door she heard
footsteps coming through the dining room and called out a
warning. "Careful. Broken glass by the kitchen door." She found the
implements she was looking for and came back to sweep up the mess. Bob was
standing on the far side of the damage.
	"How the hell did this happen?"
	His language and the manner in which he spoke shocked Patty. She
had never heard him say anything stronger than 'darn'.
	"Suzy and I were clowning around and I guess her hand knocked it
over."
	In a flash, Bob was over the scattered shards and bounding towards
his daughter who was sitting at the kitchen table completely unaware of the
magnitude of her crime. Bob grabbed her by the shoulders, picked her up and
began shaking her violently.
	"What the hell's the matter with you? How many times do I have to
tell you to be careful in the house. I'm sick and tired of you kids running
around here, ruining everything like this was a goddamn playground. If you
want to roughhouse go out in the goddamn back yard. I'm sick of this
shit. Now get out of here before. . ."
	He half dropped, half threw his daughter towards the back door. The
child was a sobbing wreck and ran to her mother who was working at the
sink.
	"Go outside like your father told you, Sue."
	Bob became furious that his daughter had not completely obeyed him
and started to move across the room towards her. Patty could tell the next
confrontation would be even more physically harmful.
	"Bob."
	He stopped in his tracks and turned to her. The anger in his eyes
was frightening. He was so very mad. But as he saw Patty, the anger
switched off and a dry, cool smile spread over his face. She was shocked at
the rapidity with which he turned it on and off, but at the moment she
could only think of the (was this possible?) poor child.
	"Give me a hand here, will you? I don't want to move and break any
more glass." She extended the dust pan to him. He took a step or two
towards her and then remembered the child. With a swift change of attitude
that reminded her of psychosis, he whipped around to the little girl and
shouted, "Get the hell out of here. Now."
	Suzy ran screaming to the back door and out into the yard. Bob tore
after her, stopping at the screen door as it slammed closed before him. "If
you don't shut up I'll really give you something to cry about."
	The effort Patty exerted to keep herself from flinging the broom at
her brother-in-law was monumental. She took a couple of deep breaths and
quickly glanced around the room to gather the sense of the environment:
Betty's reaction (none?), the sounds of the other children (none?), her own
feelings (got a couple of hours?) She almost chuckled. These were the very
techniques she had learned from her years of watching the cool, even,
unflappable Bob handle the most chaotic or unsettling of circumstances.
	Bob walked over and almost cheerfully took the dust pan . He
hesitated for a fraction of a second before removing it from her hand, his
eyes flashing to hers. There wasn't the slightest evidence of his anger. He
was simply helping her clean up a small, insignificant pile of worthless
broken glass.
	Patty gathered the pieces together with the broom and swept them
into the dust pan as Bob held it in place. After all the mess was picked up
he stood up, his eyes locked onto hers. "Thanks for taking care of that,
Patty. I really appreciate it."
	He took the broom from her, turned away and drop the contents of
the dust pan in the trash bin at the end of the counter. After replacing
the broom and pan in the closet he walked back to Patty. "Can I get you
something to drink?"
	Patty studied him. On the surface he looked cool, calm,
unperturbed. But she could see something at the edges of his eyes. They
were just a little too wide, his forehead just a little too wrinkled. And
she heard it in his voice; ever so slightly unstable. Patty wasn't sure if
she wanted to get involved with whatever was going on around here. Perhaps
she should talk to Betty first.
	"Patty? A drink?"
	"Huh? Oh, yeah. That would be fine. Do you have any soda water?"
	"I think there's some down in the rec room. Come on down and I'll
fix you some."
	"Sure. Let me just wash up. I meet you downstairs in a minute,
okay?"
	Bob's eyes flashed over to his wife who was entirely too involved
in whatever mundane task she was performing at the kitchen counter. He
shrugged and turned to the stairs. "See you in a minute," he called as he
descended.
	Patty took a moment to gather her thoughts. She watched her sister
working at the sink. What the hell was going on here? She had no answer, so
decided to check with someone who might. She walked over to her sister. As
she got closer she could see Betty's shoulders tense noticeably. Her neck
scrunched down as if she were preparing to dodge a blow to the head.
	"Betty?"
	There was no response. Whatever Betty was doing she did it
more. Patty stepped up behind her and put her hand on Betty's shoulder. She
cringed, pulling quickly away, and then tried to re-involve herself in her
previous activity. Patty was very confused now. And just a little
angry. She didn't like things that were out of control. She didn't like not
knowing. Her blood pressure began to rise and she had to concentrate on not
loosing control herself.
	"Will you please tell me what is going on here?"
	Again, nothing.
	"Betty. Goddammit. Talk to me, will you? Please?"
	Betty set down the kitchen utensil she was using and turned slowly
to her sister. Her cheeks were streaked with the paths of many tears. She
had been crying for some time now. She opened her mouth to speak, but
nothing came out. She shook her head
in. . . frustration?. . . disbelief?. . . anger?. . . and then turned
silently back to her chores.
	 Patty started to get scared. This was more than just one of
Betty's 'moods'. She had just stopped her brother-in-law from committing
child abuse and her sister was a bundle of raw, exposed nerves on the edge
of a breakdown.
	"Betty?"
	"Why don't you go down and talk to Bob," she replied without
turning around. Her shoulders shuddered with a silent sob.
	Patty exhaled with a frustrated sigh and turned to the basement
stairs. Just before she reached the door her sister called after her.
	"Patty?"
	"What?" she answered, a bit more tersely than she had intended. She
calmed herself and answered again, more evenly. "What, Betty?"
	Betty hesitated for a moment and then just shook her head. Patty
gave up and headed downstairs.
	Bob was over at the wet bar dropping ice cubes into two glasses. He
smiled nonchalantly. "Hi, there," he said as he emptied a bottle of soda
water into one and added a slice of lemon. He then opened the cabinet above
the small sink and took out a bottle of scotch. Bob never drank before
dinner, and very rarely afterwards. He poured two healthy fingers over the
ice in the other glass and put the bottle down on the counter without
replacing the cap.
	Patty was getting a very bad feeling about all this. Bob's behavior
seemed too blatant to be misunderstood. At first she thought it was some
parody of machismo he was putting on, but she realized he was playing it
all a bit too real. She was torn between her need to find out the meaning
of his conduct and an almost irrepressible desire to kick him in the
nuts. This was definitely not the good-old-level-headed Bob she had grown
to know and love. Definitely not.
	So if this wasn't Bob, then. . .
	She held her position at the bottom of the stairs and made him
carry the glass over to her. His walk was steady enough, he didn't seem to
be drunk. As he approached she examined his eyes. Again she noticed the
slight widening, the little indication of some internal hysteria. His
breathing was short, rapid. His grip on her glass was tight, the knuckles
and fingernails turning white with the pressure of his grasp. What was it?
Drugs? It seemed the only thing possible. But Bob? On drugs? If he was,
then there was something seriously wrong, and drugs were only the
symptom. Somehow she doubted it, though.
	She took a deep breath as he neared and held out her hand for the
proffered glass, expecting to have to struggle for its possession. A quick
flash of a piece of plexiglas with a key attached to it. Their eyes locked
yet again; Bob's face wearing a sarcastic, self-satisfied, overly-confident
smile, as though whatever he had on his mind was already a fait
accompli. At the last minute Bob practically shoved the glass into her hand
and withdrew to the sofa that made up one side of a conversation pit at the
far end of the room. Whatever he had intended, he had backed away from it
at the last minute. Patty was getting irritated. If he was going to shoot,
then for God's sake pull the trigger. She studied him across the room for a
second and then made up her mind to take this bullshit by the horns. She
marched purposely across the floor and plopped herself down in an armchair
that put her left knee/right knee with her irrationally behaving
in-law. Her forceful, determined attitude seemed to scare him a bit and he
quickly dropped the attitude he had been carrying since his confrontation
with his daughter upstairs. That was better. Now, she hoped, she could get
some answers.
	"Talk Bob."
	"Huh?"
	"Cut the bullshit and talk."
	He studied the contents of his glass for a moment, downed a good
portion of it in back to back gulps, winced as the booze burned its way
down his unaccustomed throat and then looked back at her. His eyes seemed
to have trouble focusing on her for a second, but soon found their
mark. For the zillionth time today they locked gazes, but this time the
wide-eyed, frantic stare was replaced by shimmering tears that hung on his
lower lids until he blinked. They tumbled from their perch, ran down his
cheeks and splattered on his chest. He ignored them as though he was now
long used to their existence. More followed and soon his nose was
running. He reached to a small end table next to the sofa and retrieved a
couple of tissues with which to blow his nose.
	Patty stayed alert but neutral. She wanted to find out what this
was all about before she committed herself emotionally. Already her gut
feeling was telling her the worst. She watched as, several times, Bob tried
to form some word but was unable. Just as Betty had upstairs. Patty ran
down a short but gruesome list of words people have trouble saying. Each of
them fit the profile. She didn't want to hazard a guess and be wrong,
especially with the situation being as emotionally charged as it was. She
continued to wait, letting Bob know with her body language that whatever he
needed from her to get through this, he could depend on her to deliver.
	Again the word formed on his lips. He made two attempts to say it
and then tried another.
	"How are you, Patty?"
	The non-sequitur caught her by surprise, but she tried to remain
focused. What did Bob want her to do?
	"Fine, Bob. How are you?"
	He hesitated for a second. "It's over, Patty."
	Patty waited. She had a feeling she knew what was over, but didn't
want to say it, fearing that speaking it would make it happen. Bob shook
his head and studied the woman in front of him. He knew she comprehended,
but it was angering him that she was going to make him go into the
details. He knew he would have to, but it was not going to be at all easy.
	"Betty's leaving me. Or I'm leaving her. Or. . . It's just over."
	"I'm going to hazard a guess that this has something to do with
Betty's previous life."
	"Yeah. She's been seeing Patrick's father. I found out about it
from a guy at the office who saw them together at a bar the other
night. When I confronted her with it she just shrugged and admitted it, as
though I'd just asked her what time it was. I couldn't believe it. I mean,
not her having an affair. That hardly surprised me at all. This isn't the
first time, you know."
	"No, I didn't."
	"Well, it's not. Or the second. Or the tenth. But I couldn't
believe how little it meant to her. I asked her what she thought we should
do about it and she told me she wanted a divorce. Un-contested, of course."
	"Of course."
	"She told me I could have the kids, too. Except Patrick. He was to
go live with his father. Christ, Patty. What the hell am I supposed to do
with three kids. I mean, I love them. I really do. They're my whole
life. But I can't raise three kids by myself. This is supposed to be a
joint effort."
	"Are you going to ask for child support?"
	"She said if I did she'd counter-sue for custody. I may not think I
could handle three kids by myself. But I know what would happen to them if
she was in charge of raising them."
	Bob knocked back the rest of his drink and set his glass down on
the end table with a loud bang. Patty was afraid he was going to get
violent again. Unfortunately, he had spent so many years being 'cool, calm,
collected Bob' he didn't have any outlet for his anger. He'd lost his
ability to vent his emotions, if he'd ever had it. Patty somehow doubted
it. You didn't keep your cool the way Bob did without years and years of
practice and suppression. And now it was all coming out and the only thing
he could vent it on was his family. She didn't like the wild look in his
eyes she'd seen earlier.
	"Are you mad, Bob?"
	"No. . . Yes. . . Yes. I guess I am. I mean, I don't usually yell
at the kids like that."
	"Bob, I've never seen you yell at the kids. Not like that or
anything. Never."
	"I can't seem to control it. I know I'm doing it. I know I'm
scaring the hell out of the kids, but I can't even begin to stop it. The
scary part is that. . . it really feels good. Not yelling at the kids. That
part sucks."
	"Bob."
	"Yeah, I know. Make a sailor blush, right?"
	"Well, not that bad. But I've never heard you use that kind of
language."
	"Offended?"
	"Hell, no. Just surprised."
	"I'm kind of shocked, myself. But what really has me
baffled. . . scared. . . worried, is how. . . how good it feels to get
mad."
	"Have you gotten mad at Betty?"
	"At first. I actually slapped her across the face when she reacted
so cavalier about her affair. She's been ducking me ever since. I didn't
think it was a very good idea for you to come down this weekend, but Betty
insisted. I think she wants you here so I won't haul off and smack her
again."
	"Well, I'm ready to slug both of you."
	"I figured you'd say that."
	"Well, yeah. I mean, come on, Bob. I've known you for a long
time. We've been friends. We talk. We pal around. I've watched you with
your family and marveled at your ability to handle them. And now this."
	"Do you realize how exhausting it is to have to work at making this
extended family work together? Three fathers, a mother who apparently
couldn't care less, four kids who, for the most part, are so emotionally
unstable that, waking them up in the morning, I'm afraid I'll find one of
them has murdered another in the night. They're angry. All of them. They
all resent each other's presence. They all resent not knowing who they are
and why 'real daddy' doesn't want them, or why they have to share their
lives with someone else's kid. And I'm stuck in the middle of it." He
heaved a sigh which shook his entire body. "I'm tired of it. I've been
running my butt off trying to make this work and now it's all going to get
thrown out the window. With a shrug."
	"Well, you deserve to get mad. Get angry. But the kids don't
deserve to be the ones to catch it. I suspect you've never really gotten
mad before have you?"
	"Sure. I've been upset."
	"Bob. We're talking major and minor league here. You get a flat
tire, swear under your breath and change the damn thing. You get to the
store and find out they closed fifteen minutes ago. Minor league. I'm
talking about wanting to take someone and throw them up against the wall
and beat them senseless with your bare fists. Like you almost did a while
ago to Suzy."
	"That was pretty stupid, wasn't it?"
	"No, just misdirected. And I'm not advocating going out and finding
some bum in a back alley and setting his clothes on fire, either. But you
really do need to get mad. In an environment you can trust, where no one
can get hurt. You need to take that energy and channel it into something
constructive."
	"You want me to go to the gym, right?"
	"Wrong. I just want you to get rid of all this pent-up energy
before I see your story on the six o'clock news."
	Bob leaned back heavily into the cushions, exhaling through tightly
pursed lips. He studied his fingernails as though the secrets of the
universe were contained in the small specks of dirt caught under
them. Occasionally his eyes would flash up at Patty. He was worried, very
worried. And Patty suspected the thing he was worried most about was that
he might be misinterpreting what she was talking about. What she was
offering.
	"Do the kids know?"
	"I suspect Patrick and Veronica do. Or at least they know something
is very wrong. I doubt if Suzy and Marshall have caught on yet. We've tried
to keep this thing quiet, although, as you saw a while ago, it's getting
more and more difficult to keep a lid on it."
	"You suspect? You mean you haven't told them? Bob, what the hell's
wrong with you? You never used to deal the kids out. Especially when it
involved them like this."
	"I guess we. . . I was hoping that things would get sort of. . ."
	"Patched up?"
	"Yeah. That if I told the kids and it turned out to be not true,
then we would have made them worry about nothing."
	"So, instead, you let them go on trying to figure out why Mommy and
Daddy hate them all so much that they're being beaten and screamed at like
never before in their lives. Bob. I love you. You're my favorite
in-law. . ."
	"I'm your only in-law."
	"Right. And you're an asshole."
	"Thanks, Patty. Real confidence builder, there."
	"I'm not trying to build anything. I'm venting my anger so that I
don't yank the wet bar out from the wall and clobber you with it. Two of
those kids upstairs are your children. But all four of them are my nieces
and nephews. I may talk disparagingly about them, I may cringe at the
thought of spending a weekend with them, but I know that has more to do
with not being used to having kids around me more often. Bottom line,
though. They are my kin. My blood. And you're screwing around with their
heads. You're an asshole. So's my sister. In fact she's a bigger asshole."
	"I was hoping I wasn't going to have to bear all the blame here."
	"But she's also an emotional cripple. She was brought up without
any knowledge of how to make a relationship work. Love equals sex. That's
all. Unfortunately sex equals babies and she never was too good at higher
math. Couple that with the attention span of a thirty minute soap opera and
you've got someone who changes lovers like a channel surfer with a remote
control on a bad TV night. But you. You came into this a bit more
prepared. I don't believe that no one warned you about what you were
getting into. Who did you think you were? Superman?"
	"Yes." Bob was crying again. Good. She was hitting her mark.
	"Well, you're not, Bob. You're just a shmoe, like all the rest of
us shmoes. Only you didn't believe it. You thought you could put yourself
aside, forget about what you needed as a human being and give yourself
totally to the task of righting the wrong that had been committed
here. Right?"
	Bob couldn't respond. His body was being wracked by sobs, tears
were now streaming constantly down his cheeks, his nose running.
	"Just nod your head, Bob. Let me know if I'm on the right track
here." He nodded. "Fine. So here you are, with a wife that can't keep her
hand out of the cookie jar, in fact has a very well documented history of
this particular problem, and now she's at it again. So what do you do? You
get mad at the kids. Great, Bob. Just great. Go ahead. Beat the dog. Drop
the goldfish in the disposal and crank 'er on. Maybe you should go out and
by a parakeet so you can twist its little neck real slow-like and listen to
every little bone crack while it chirps its death song in the palm of your
hand."
	"Fuck you, Patty."
	"What'd you say, asshole?"
	"I said, 'Fuck you.'"
	"No. Fuck you, you creep. My sister's a jerk, but you should know
better."
	"What the hell do you know? What do you know about all this. You
don't even. . ."
	"What? Say it, asshole. Say it. I don't even what?"
	"What do you know about family? What do you know about making a
relationship work, huh? It's easy for you to sit there and criticize me and
the way I'm handling this. But you can't possibly have any idea what I'm
going through."
	"You're right."
	"You're goddamn right I'm right. Right. And stop trying to make me
mad at you. I know what you're trying to do. You want me to take a shot at
you. You want me to take this out on you so I don't hit my kids."
	"That's right, asshole. Better me than those poor, confused kids
upstairs."
	Bob slammed his fist down hard on the arm of the sofa and propelled
himself to his feet. He stared down at Patty, his breathing heavy and
ragged. He tried to say something several times, stopped, walked away a few
steps and then turned back to her.
	"You know, you're just as much of an asshole as me. You think I'm
stupid because I'm taking this out on my kids. You're right. But you. . ."
	"Me, what?"
	"You don't get it, do you?"
	"What the fuck are you talking about?"
	"You. I'm talking about you. Look at you."
	"What is this? I thought you were the one with the problem. What's
this got to do with me?"
	"This is about you."
	"Okay, Bob. I'm really confused now. You'd better start making some
sense here."
	"You're not playing dumb? You really don't understand, do you?"
	"Work with me, here, Bob. We seem to have taken a turn without the
turn signals. I thought Betty was leaving you for a former lover and you
were beating the kids. How do I fit into all this?"
	"Aw, Patty. Don't make this anymore difficult than it already
is. Do a little reading between the lines so I don't have to say it."
	"I don't like this, Bob."
	"You don't like this? Ha! You think I'm enjoying this? You think
it's been easy for me to have you come down here every three or four
months, stay for a couple of days, traipsing around here in your tight
outfits, going to the beach in those posing suits you wear, sleeping in the
bedroom next to mine while I lay awake until all hours of the night
fighting off the almost uncontrollable desire to sneak out of bed and tap
quietly on your door."
	"Oh, shit."
	"Yeah. Oh, shit, Patty. No shit."
	"All this time. . ."
	"I was being such a good boy."
	"But you never let on."
	"And if I had? You'd have been out of here in a shot with a quick
stop at Betty to tell her what a scum bag she's married to."
	Patty stood up and walked to stairs at the opposite end of the
room. She put her hand on the railing, her left foot on the first step.
	"I want to ask you a question, Bob. If you lie to me, and I'll know
if you do, I'm out of here." There was silence. She took that as
agreement. "If you'd met me before Betty, would you have married her?"
	"No."
	Shit. She was afraid of that. She did a quick run down of her own
feelings in this matter and realized, without too much surprise, that she
had deep feelings for this man. She admired him, respected him, even loved
him as a close friend and relative. She cherished the time she got to spend
with him, had admitted that he was the main reason she even made these
journeys. He was nominally married to her sister. Did this matter? Yes. Her
sister was dumping him for the slob who first dumped her with a kid. That
only confirmed Betty's emotional instability. Could she take advantage of
that? She didn't like the answer to that. She climbed the stairs to the
top, turned the little button in the middle of the door knob, checked to
make sure it was locked and then returned to the basement.
	When she reached the bottom step she looked over at her
brother-in-law. Saying she saw him with new eyes would have been the
understatement of the century. Yes, all the pieces fell into place. His
kindness, attention, respect. The workouts, the critique sessions, him
showing her his while she showed him hers. Checking in on her every night
to see if she needed anything. Taking days off from work to go the beach
with her and Betty and the kids. Had he ever taken a day off to go to the
beach with Betty? She would have bet her last nickel on that until a few
moments ago. Now. . . She doubted it.
	So here she was. And there he was, still standing across the room
looking lost and confused. He knew that, in his mind at least, he had been
cheating on his wife since they were married. Was the thought as bad as the
deed? She doubted that Betty and the kids ever suffered for his
transgression. If anything, the guilt probably made him a far better
father, a more attentive husband, than Betty's kids could have possibly
hoped for, or than Betty deserved.
	"Okay. So now what?"
	"I guess that's sort of up to you. I'm the bad boy with the dirty
little secret. You're just the innocent bystander."
	"Not so innocent."
	"How so?"
	"I certainly didn't discourage your attentions, your enthusiasm for
my sport. I think that our little confabs down here, discussing and
comparing of body parts, perhaps I was too eager to involve you. I enjoyed
them, looked forward to them. Especially when you started to make such
wonderful progress."
	"I never thought your intentions any less than honorable."
	"I would have said the same thing of yours. And mine, now that I
think about it. I'm pretty sure I was kidding myself."
	"I know I was. Why did you go upstairs? Were you going to leave?"
	"I locked the door."
	Patty stepped off the last stair and moved across the room to
him. He seemed. . . scared, nervous. He was still on the edge,
emotionally. Patty wanted to make sure he had a clear head about what was
happening here.
	"First thing: What we're contemplating here is wrong. You're a
married man. Married to my sister. She cheated on you, but that gives you
absolutely no right to do the same thing to her. Second thing: I am your
sister-in-law, other side of the same coin, but I thought it needed to be
said. Third thing: Just because we've both been harboring certain desires
about each other is no reason to act on them now. Especially now. How'm I
doing?"
	"Back up to the first thing."
	"What about it?"
	"What is it, exactly, we're contemplating here?"
	"You want me to answer for both of us?"
	"Okay. What is it you're contemplating?"
	"I'm contemplating helping you relieve some of that pent-up anger
and energy so that you'll stop taking it out on my nieces and nephews. What
are you contemplating?"
	"Your breasts."
	"I've noticed. Beyond that."
	"There isn't anything beyond that."
	Patty sighed. She undid the buttons of her blouse and shrugged it
off her broad shoulders. It slipped to the floor behind her. The bra she
had put on at the rest stop just before the exit for her sister's house
barely contained the two globes of her breasts. She would never have
admitted it before now that she always dressed this way for Bob. But she
did. Always had. Many times when they were discussing his or her progress
in body building she had wanted to pull these stupid clothes off and let
him drink the beauty of her wonderful physique. She had felt so stupid
pulling a sleeve up here, a pant leg there so he could see a certain muscle
group. She knew now what he had always wanted to see. He would get his
wish.
	The snap for the bra was in the front. She raised her hands to undo
it, but noticed him shaking his head.
	"What?"
	"Don't. You're right. This is not right, at all."
	"You sound about as convincing as a politician on the night before
election."
	"Really Patty. I don't think we should do this." He walked towards
her, his eyes still glued to the astounding sight before him. "I don't
think I could forgive myself if you were to be coerced into some illicit
act with me." He stopped inches away from her and reached up with his
hands. His fingers spread as though he were going to place them over her
breasts. They stopped, so close she could feel the heat of them. They began
to shake, trembling with the conflict between his mind and his heart. His
fingers closed into a fist, drew together, and then moved to the
snap. Before she could blink he'd undone it. The bra literally flew open as
it contracted from the strain of its efforts.
	"I have fantasized about this moment for years. Your breasts are
the most wonderful I have ever seen."
	"Thank you. Touch them."
	"Huh?"
	"Touch them. I want you to touch them. Please."
	Bob started with his hands on the outside curve of each one. He
lightly traced the circumferences with his fingertips. Patty hmmmed quietly
and her spectacular nipples began to harden and lengthen. Before he had
even made it all the way around they were erect. He slowly closed his hands
around the globes of flesh and drew them together. His tongue snaked out
from between his closed lips and he quickly flicked it across each of the
long, rigid erections. Patty breathed in sharply, between closed teeth.
	"Oooo. Yeah."
	"Would you flex for me?"
	"Oh, baby, would I?"
	She shook her arms to rid them of the bra and then raised them
above her head. Slowly tensing every muscle, she lowered them again to her
side. As she did her body began to bulge and grow. Her pecs expanded and
pressed her breasts harder into his hands. Veins and muscle fibers exploded
over her body. Her shoulders widened, her biceps bulged. Bob's hands were
suddenly everywhere, feeling everything. He pulled Patty to him and their
mouths pressed together in a kiss so deep it sucked at each other's
soul. His hips began pumping against her; she countered his efforts with
her own pelvic thrusts. She could feel the length of his cock as it pressed
against her. She reached to his waist and undid the belt buckle and then
the snap at the top of his zipper.
	Bob's actions were getting more insistent, more urgent. She didn't
want him popping his cork with his pants still on so she pulled away from
him and began to unbutton his shirt. She pulled the shirt tail out of his
pants and then spread the front open, revealing his wonderful, tight chest
and abdomen.
	He had opted for definition instead of mass and had followed her
advice religiously. The result was a hard, firm body covered with lots of
wonderful little clumps and knots of sexy muscle. She ran her hands up to
his shoulders, enjoying the roundness of his delts, and pushed the shirt
down off his back. Everything was so well-defined. Every single muscle had
its own identity. She knew that flexing wouldn't make him look much
bigger. But the hard-etched look of him was a real turn-on by itself.
	"You've done very well. I can't believe Betty would want to throw
this away."
	"She says it scares her."
	"What?"
	"Yeah. She says it reminds her of you. I think she feels like she's
making love to you."
	"It's possible she realizes why you're building yourself up." Patty
studied him for a few moments, silently assessing his various muscle
groups. She had seen this before. Bob had no compunctions about baring
himself for her. Their regular analysis of his physique had been complete.
	"This is great. For the first time I don't have to think about car
crashes and dead body parts lying on the highway."
	"What."
	"That's what I had to do whenever you looked at me like this before
so I wouldn't get a hard-on."
	"How considerate of you. What's the matter, did you think I'd never
seen one before?"
	"Of course not. I just didn't think it would be
appropriate. Especially if one of the kids was watching."
	"True enough. So you're not worried about it now, eh?"
	They both looked down at the front of his pants.
	"I guess not."
	"Good."
	Patty undid the zipper and pulled his pants down his muscular
legs. He had done a great job of working the individual muscle groups
without letting them get too bulky. The deep tan accented his white briefs
nicely. And so did the nice hard protrusion pressing outward from
within. She kneeled and helped him step out of his pants and then leaned
back just a bit to study the sight before her.
	 She knew it would feel very good inside her. It seemed to be quite
thick and the head made quite an impression. She could also make out the
outline of two big testicles which were pressed against the fabric. She
leaned forward and blew a breath of hot air onto the fabric. Bob's body
tensed noticeably. So did her own. He was right on the edge.
	"When did you cum last?"
	"It's been about a week."
	"I assume, then, that the pump is primed."
	"You blow on me like that one more time and I won't be responsible
for what happens."
	"Good."
	She stood up, stepped back a couple of feet and undid the waistband
of her skirt. It dropped to the floor leaving her clothed only in her
sandals and bikini briefs. She let him gaze at her again for a while,
enjoying the way he studied her. She realized what it was about this whole
situation that turned her on so much: The risk. Here was Bob, ready to
throw everything over the side, just for a shot at Patty's body. If Betty
were to catch them, it would be all over. She would have grounds to sue for
divorce and no jury in the state would find her at fault, no matter her own
indelicacies.
	And stare he did. Each time his eyes moved to a different part of
her body his hips gave a little thrust forward. She thought he must be
getting a bit uncomfortable.
	"That must hurt."
	"Yeah."
	"Good."
	She slipped her fingers down into the waistband of her briefs and
slowly slid them to the floor. She stepped out of them and picked them up
in her right hand. She held them out to Bob and waved them back and forth,
allowing the smell of her to waft through the air. Bob inhaled deeply
through his nose; his chest expanded. He tensed his muscles, causing them
to increase their definition. He spread his arms out to his sides, flexed
them, causing his biceps to turn into hard, smooth rocks. He flexed his
abdomen, his hips pumping forward, and his cock let loose. Again and again
he thrust his pelvis forward and the front of his briefs were saturated
with his cum.
	Patty rushed to him and pressed her body hard against his, grinding
her crotch against his hardness. Their hands pushed, pulled, squeezed,
grasped, rubbed, dug, scratched; their mouths sucked, licked, bit, chewed,
kissed, blew, drank. Bob pressed his advantage and soon had Patty backed up
against a support pole in the middle of the room. The cold metal shocked
her and made her more aggressive. She grabbed his briefs, yanking them to
the floor. She flattened herself against the pole, wrapped one leg around
Bob's waist and grabbed the beam which rested on the top of the support
with her right hand. With her other she grabbed Bob's hot, thick cock and
aimed it at her cunt. He thrust once and was in. Patty shuddered as she
felt him fill her. She moaned and then grabbed the beam with her other hand
as well and wrapped her other leg around his waist. Bob pressed slowly
forward until he was entirely enclosed by her heat. They stared at each
other, enjoying the moment. Bob brought his hands up to Patty's firm,
amazing breasts and began to fondle them. She squirmed on his cock.
	"Let's do some damage."
	Bob grabbed her waist, pulled his cock almost completely out and
then thrust deeply. The force shook her upper torso, her breasts vibrated
with the impact.
	"Oh, yeah. Again. Fuck me. Hard."
	As he pulled out of her she flexed her huge biceps to lift her body
up. He rammed his shaft into her again and she released her weight from her
arms and dropped down hard on him.
	"Oh my God, Patty. Oh yeah. Ooo."
	Again he pulled out. She lifted, her lats and arms expanding. She
pursed her lips and prepared to take the brunt of his attack
again. Wham. And again. Wham. Each thrust was hard and furious. They
increased in speed until she could no longer lift herself quick enough. She
held herself suspended from the beam, her legs wrapped around his waist,
while he held her under her ass, his fingers digging into those luscious
mounds.
	Harder. Harder. Faster. Faster. His abdomen flexed and contracted
with each thrust. Her breasts bounced, the movement stimulating them, her
nipples growing longer, harder, the wonderful globes of flesh aching to be
touched, squeezed, handled. Her cunt began to flow as his thick shaft
pressed deeply into her. She could feel the ridge of the head as it
traveled back and forth within her. He felt so good inside her. So full. So
hot. So hard. He established a rhythm, fast and furious, and maintained
it. She watched him as his tight body heaved itself into each violent
thrust with no end to his endurance in sight. A sheen of sweat began to
cover his body, making him glow seductively.
	She didn't know what she was going to do about her breasts. She
needed him to touch her there, but the position they were in kept his hands
busy holding her up. She drew him to her with her legs. When they were both
pressed up against the pole she released one of her hands from the beam and
wrapped it around his neck. Then the other one. He never stopped thrusting.
	"Take me to the couch," she said as she pressed her aching breasts
into his chest.
	He lifted her by the ass and carried her over to the sofa. When he
was standing in front of it she released her arms and slowly leaned back
until her shoulders were on its cushions. This made her abdomen become
exceptionally hard and her breasts rode high on her chest. Still he
continued to pound his cock into her. She was becoming quite agitated, her
nerves began to tingle and sing as she was stimulated more and more. He
held her there for a few moments to enjoy the view while he continued, and
then slowly lowered himself and her ass until they were resting on the
couch. Now he reached up and began to fondle her breasts. He started gently
but she grabbed his hands and showed him how she liked it: Rough. He
complied vigorously. He pulled and squeezed the long, hard nipples,
stretching them out and flicking them with his fingertips. Patty began to
moan loudly and had to stuff her fist in her mouth to keep from getting as
vocally active as she usually did. This was going to be difficult. Bob was
very, very good. He was also very, very hard and thick. Soon her cunt was
screaming for release, but she could tell Bob still had a few more minutes
to go before he was ready to shoot again. The fact that he had not gotten
the least bit soft after cumming in his briefs told her how hot he was. She
began to flex her internal muscles, clamping down on him each time he
thrust powerfully into her. Within seconds he had doubled his speed and was
grunting with the effort. Sweat was flying off him and his hard body
gleamed. She wanted to touch him. She held out her arms and beckoned him
forward. He climbed on top of her, swung his body around so they were both
lying lengthwise on the sofa, and then he renewed his attack. She had never
had a man move so quickly in her. Never had a man keep up the pace for so
long. His muscles strained with the effort, but his breathing seemed deep
and regular. Each thrust brought a quiet grunt which increased in pitch as
he came closer to cumming. His furious, rapid motion set Patty's cunt to
buzzing and soon the contractions began within her. She bit down on her
lips to keep from screaming. From yelling. From swearing. From
singing. From doing anything. She wanted to flail her arms and buck her
hips hard against this amazing lover to drive him on to an incredible
orgasm. She was afraid of making too much noise, though. He was so
quiet. So determined. He just kept at it. So fast. So hot.
	His arms were braced on the sofa on either side of her body. Her
own hands roamed up and down them, feeling the deep cuts between the
muscles. She dug her fingernails into his delts as the waves of release
rolled through her body. She tried to pull him down onto her, but he
resisted. She dropped back down onto the couch and let the orgasm rumble
through her. He then shifted all his weight onto one arm and, with the
other, began to manipulate her clitoris. Her hips bucked immediately and
she let out a low moan. She caught herself before it got too loud and
turned it into a hiss of air.
	"Oh my God. Oh my God," she whispered. "Oh fuck. Oh God you're
good. So good. Yeah. Yeah. Oh, shit. I'm. . . gonna. . . cum. . . again."
	Her body contracted and new waves flooded through her. She clamped
down hard on his cock as he rammed himself deep into her, grinding his hips
against her. She felt the first load of cum. He pulled back, slammed his
cock into her again and a second one flew from the end of his cock. Again
he pulled almost all the way out and then returned, his back arched, his
eyes tightly closed, his face contorted with the effort and sheer ecstasy
of his release. Each time he thrust forward he ground his hips against her
and her clit screamed. She ground her pelvis against him to increase the
sensation.
	After several more of these collisions he slowly lowered himself
onto her, his triceps and pecs tightly knotted from the effort. She wrapped
her arms around his back and dug her nails into the various hills and
valleys of his muscular back. His hands reached up to her face and caressed
her cheeks, traced her chin, lips and nose. He would occasionally place a
light kiss on some part of her body, eliciting a hum or purr from
her. After several minutes he wiggled his hips.
	"Holy shit. You're still hard."
	"Of course I am."
	"What do you mean, 'Of course you are'?"
	"Whenever you sleep over I have to go into the bathroom about
halfway through the night and jerk off at least twice to get soft. I guess
with the real thing, it's going to take a lot more than twice." Again he
ground his hips forward. She moaned passionately. "You are, without any
question, the most sexy, powerful, beautiful woman I have ever dreamed of
making love to."
	"And you, sir, have the most amazing pelvic thrust I have ever run
into. Literally. You've been working on that, I assume."
	"Religiously. I stand in the shower and pretend you're
there. Actually, really being inside you slows me down a bit."
	"I thought we were going to catch fire there for a second."
	"Are you sore?"
	"A little. Mostly because I've already been pretty active today. In
fact, considering how active I've been, I'd say it's pretty amazing I was
able to pop off two orgasms back to back like that."
	Bob smiled and ground his hips against her once more and then
slowly pulled out of her. She whimpered involuntarily as she suddenly felt
empty. She glanced down between her breasts and saw his dark, rigid cock
wavering just above her crotch. He clasped it in one hand and slowly worked
it up and down the shaft.
	"Let me." They shifted position and she knelt on the floor between
his legs. She took him into her mouth and began to suck and lick his
cock. Her tongue teased and flicked the head. She squeezed the base of the
shaft with one hand and gently massaged his big, bloated balls with the
other. Bob's fingers buried themselves in her hair, combing and
pulling. This went on for several minutes, the two of them just enjoying
the union of their bodies. There was no more urgency, no more bodies
crashing together at the speed of sound. Just a mouth around a cock. And a
lot of hmming and oooing.
	"I like your cock. It's nice and thick. Tastes good."
	"Thanks. I want to taste you, too."
	Patty stood up in front of him. She spread her vaginal lips for him
and he wiggled his tongue up towards her clit. He licked it twice, sending
shivers through her body, and then moved off the couch to crouch on the
floor. He tilted his head way back and worked his tongue down the lips of
her cunt until it was burying itself up inside her. Now it was her fingers
that combed and pulled at hair. She moaned and cooed as he drove his tongue
up into her. His forefinger located her clit again and began to torture it
with rapid, light attacks. After a couple of minutes, though, she had to
pull away from him.
	"Sorry, love. We're gonna have to give things a rest. Besides, this
was supposed to be the other way around. You still need some attention. Sit
down."
	In fact, his cock had grown considerably darker.
	"That looks like it hurts."
	"A whole lot."
	"Good."
	"You keep saying that."
	"I keep meaning it."
	Patty knelt and consumed his entire cock in one gulp. Bob gasped
and his hips pushed up against her face. She licked and sucked her way up
and down the shaft and within a matter of minutes was rewarded with several
large, powerful loads of cum. She sucked every drop out of him then slowly
licked the shaft as it began to soften until it rested on its testicle
pillow. He drew her face to him and kissed her long and hard, their tongues
probed deeply into each other's mouths.
	Patty crossed her arms on his thighs and leaned her chin on them,
heaving a big sigh.
	"So, Mr. Cum-Three-Times. Now what?"
	"You want it straight?"
	"Best way."
	"I think you ought to leave. Go home. I'm going to have a little
chat with Betty and then a nice long talk with my poor, confused
children. Tomorrow morning I'm going down to my lawyers office, file for
non-contested divorce. I'll insist that she take custody of the older two
kids. I get Suzy and Marshall."
	"And. . .?"
	"What about us?"
	"Yeah."
	"We don't see each other again until the divorce is final. One
small transgression in the thralls of my grief might be understandable. I
don't think I could resist a second time."
	Again Patty sighed heavily.
	"Patty?"
	"What?"
	"You know I love you, don't you?"
	"Aw, Christ, Bob. I really wish you hadn't said that."
	"Why not?"
	"Well, things are getting pretty crowded up in my neck of the
woods."
	"Got a new beaux?"
	"You might say that. Not quite sure where it's all leading right
now. But, in fact, it might be even more complicated than that."
	"Do I want to know this?"
	"Not right now, I don't think. I'm not sure, myself. I'll keep you
posted, okay?"
	"Fine. Whatever happens, I just want you to know what this little
thing here has meant to me."
	"And I want you to know what this little thing," she stroked the
length of his now flaccid cock, "has meant to me."
	"Did you bring your stuff in from your car yet?"
	"Nope."
	"Got anything upstairs you can't live without?"
	"I don't think so. Why?"
	"Just thought you might want to slip out the back door here. Save
you from having to. . . you know."
	"I am not going to skulk away like some criminal. If Betty doesn't
know what went on down here, fine. But if she does, and wants to confront
me with it, I'll stand my ground. The fact that I sneak away admits my
guilt. At least this way I can throw it right back at her. Don't
worry. I've been pushing her buttons a lot longer than you. I'll be all
right. I'm just glad we didn't get too wild with the clothes. You see where
my panties went?"
	"Over there." Bob pointed to the wet bar. Her briefs were draped
over the scotch bottle, the neck sticking through one of the leg
holes. "Nice shot."
	They gathered their clothing and dressed, Bob minus his cum-soaked
briefs. He took them into the laundry room and dropped them in the
washer. Patty watched him finish dressing. She loved watching a man deal
with his penis. Bob pulled his pants up, fed the head of his shaft down the
right pant leg and then shimmied the pants the rest of the way up his legs,
giving his right one a couple of shakes to keep the thick tube of flesh
from riding up. He then buttoned and tucked in his shirt, running his hand
down the right pant leg again to straighten his cock out a final
time. Patty sighed. He was so tight, so hard, so defined. And so thick. She
could see the shaft pressing against the fabric on the inside of his
thigh. She wanted to rub her hand along the length of it, but knew the
consequences of that. It was soft now. Best leave well enough alone.
	When Bob was done he watched Patty with the same intense
interest. Just before she enclosed her magnificent breasts within the bra
he leaned to each one and sucked each nipple into his mouth one last
time. The snap was fastened, the blouse buttoned and deep cleavage and the
inside curves of the wonderful globes were all that was left to behold. He
ran his hands over their surface and sighed deeply.
	"Never, ever, did I ever think I would have the pleasure of seeing
your beautiful body unclothed. It honestly never occurred to me that it was
possible."
	"Be careful what you wish for. It may come true."
	"That sounds ominous."
	"Honey, with what we're getting ourselves into here, a healthy dose
of ominous would do us both some good. I want you to know that I'm not real
comfortable with what just went on here. Don't get me wrong. I'm not
complaining about the sex. You are one hot fuck. And wipe that smug look of
your face. I'm not trying to assuage the fragile male ego. We're both hot
fucks. And I'll bet you were a bit more inspired than you are with my
sister. So don't think you can take all the credit. But. We're messing
around with more than just our own lives. There are the kids. And, even
though she might seem low on the list of things we should have compassion
for at the moment, there is Betty. So, before this goes any further, we
both, and I stress the word both, need to get our heads together, our feet
on the ground, and everything settled. You got me?"
	"Why do I feel like I'm listening to my mother?"
	"Sorry. I don't mean to lecture. But I don't want any
misunderstandings, either. Another thing, and this may, indeed, shatter
your dreams. What we did here did not link our lives together for the rest
of time. Like I said, you're a great lay, but I don't want a boyfriend. Or
more to the point, I don't want you as my boyfriend. I'll be perfectly
honest with you. When I get back to my place I'm going to set about
seducing my new next door neighbor who happens to be gorgeous, built like a
tank and has a eleven-and-a-half inch cock. Him I wouldn't mind having for
a boyfriend. That doesn't cut you out of the picture. He's a
share-and-share-alike kind of guy and I personally like a lot of variety in
my life. I figure about the time you get finished cutting through all the
legal red tape your about to dive into, say two or three centuries from
now, I ought to be just about bored with this guy. Don't look so
forlorn. I've always had a short attention span. That's why I'm still
single. When this is all over I'll look forward to climbing into bed with
you and screwing our brains out until neither of us can see
straight. That's the story from my side."
	"Gee. I wish you could be a bit more specific about my future. At
least I have something to look forward to."
	"Bob, you've got a lot more to look forward to than just a roll in
the hay with me. You make up your own mind. I just don't want you making
any plans that included me without my consent. I'm very used to getting my
own way. I have a hard time when someone comes into a relationship with
their mind already made up. So if your plans include me in any way, and I
hope they do, just remember where my boundaries are."
	"I guess I'd better get the ball rolling. Thanks for. . . for
everything."
	"Thank you. I have to be honest, I never suspected you were such a
good lover. Does Betty know this side of you?"
	"At first the sex was great. She's not as energetic as you, though,
so I felt inhibited. And possibly I wasn't as polished as I am now. I
certainly wasn't in as good a shape. But things cooled off between us
pretty soon after we were married. From then on I was only like that in my
fantasies of you."
	"Well, I hope the years of rehearsal were worth the opening night."
	"Patty, I never knew that sex could be that good in real life. I
hope you still want to see me when this divorce stuff is over, because I've
got fantasies I've been dreaming about for many years. God, what I'd love
to do with your body."
	"I'll look forward to it."
	"Just don't get stuck on your neighbors cock."
	"I hope I get real stuck on it. You think you have an overactive
imagination? You wouldn't believe what I've got planned for that man's
penis."
	"I might surprise you."
	"Yeah, I think you might. You certainly have so far. But now you
have to go and be Mr. Sensible Dad. I wouldn't wish this shit on my worst
enemy. I certainly hate to think of you going through it. But if there's
anyone who can handle it, I know it's you. Just keep the energy
flowing. Don't bottle it up. Get to the gym and keep those luscious, tight
bulges bulging lusciously. I'm sure there are an awful lot of women, and
probably men, too, who would give a great deal to get a crack at that body
of yours. And that cock. Just remember that. Make it worth your while. Make
it worth everyone's while. You and the kids are going to come out of this
okay. I know."
	"Thanks for the confidence. The tunnel looks pretty long and dark
from where I'm standing right now. And I have to admit it would be nice to
have someone like you with me for moral support, but I appreciate your
being so honest, so painfully honest, with me. I'd like to give you a call
every now and again, though. It'll be important to me knowing your point of
view in all this."
	"You've got my number. Just don't be surprised if you get my
machine a lot for the next couple of weeks. But I promise to call you
back."
	"Great. So. I guess we'd better get this show on the road. I don't
suppose you'd want to change places for a little while?"
	"What? I go up and talk to Betty and the kids while you get a
eleven-and-a-half inch cock rammed up your ass?"
	"Remember those fantasies I was telling you about?"
	"Robert. You are full of surprises. But, no. Thanks, but no
thanks."
	"I thought not. Oh, well. It was worth a try, anyway. Shall we?"
	"No time like the present. After you?"
	"No. After you. If Betty's at the top of the stairs with the frying
pan, I'd hate to leave those poor kids without a father."
	"You're so thoughtful. Fine. I'm the one who's going to have to
deal with her first, anyway. As a matter of fact, why don't you wait down
here for a couple of minutes while I drag her out to my car with me. She's
going to be mighty pissed off when I get through talking to her. That'll
give you some breathing room."
	"Thanks. I'll get the kids and take them out in the back yard. I
really should set things straight with them first."
	For the final time their eyes connected. They were two very
different people from the ones who had come down to the basement for a
drink a while ago. Patty had actually grown in awe of her
brother-in-law. But she could not let him know, right now anyway, how
deeply he had affected her. They moved together and embraced, pressing
their bodies together, feeling the strength and passion of each other one
last time. "God, he is hot," she thought. "My brother-in-law, a sex
god. Who'd have guessed." Maybe Arnold wasn't going to have such an easy
time bowling her over as she had thought. How would he feel, knowing that
her attentions would be divided between him and this hot, sexy stud she was
currently grinding her crotch against?
	She remembered Peter's insightful thoughts about him. If he was
right, Arnold would be overjoyed. Probably want to have a crack at Bob,
himself.
	What was it Bob had said? She might, indeed, be surprised.
	Bob was busy nibbling his way down Patty's throat. His hands were
pressing into her breasts and his tongue dove into the cleavage for one
last taste. He breathed in deeply, straightened up and stepped back from
her. They scanned each other and Patty had to chuckle.
	"Yep. I think you'd better hang out here for a couple of
minutes. You walk up stairs like that and I think even I would want to
throw the frying pan at you. Take care of yourself, Bob. I want to see
everyone come out of this okay. You, the kids, Betty, me. Everyone."
	"Thanks, again, Patty. Have a safe trip home. Sorry to send you
away without dinner."
	"Don't worry. I'll grab something on the way. Give me a call in a
couple of days, okay?"
	"Okay."
	"And say good bye to the kids for me."
	"Sure. Take care."
	Patty turned and went up the stairs. She paused for a moment to
listen before unlocking the door. She couldn't tell anything.
	"Well, here goes nothing."
	She turned the button in the door knob, opened the door and stepped
into the kitchen. Betty was sitting at the table, doing nothing. When she
saw Patty she shot her a look that told her all she needed to know. Betty
knew. But she also knew there was nothing she could do about it.
	"Come on, Betty. Let's talk."
	"I've got nothing to say to you."
	"Good. Then you can just listen. Come on. Out front."