Once more, we were going to the Foresters for dinner, and that simple thing brightened my mood quite a bit. Thanksgiving was the following week, and it would be that weekend we would be moving. Not the best timing, but with a little pre-planning, we were able to get the power turned on, the phone and cable TV hooked up, and our change of address cards filed with all the appropriate organizations. Maureen and Dick insisted on my joining them for Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday. I hadn’t been looking forward to spending it on my own. The thought crossed my mind that Sylvia would be by herself. Her parents were living in Arizona, and they seldom saw each other. She was never very close to them, and I often wondered why. My father had passed away five years earlier. He had finally succumbed to the after effects of the Vietnam War. My mother lived with my older sister and her family in Des Moines. I had sent them a card and would call them on Thursday. It was something I did on every. "She was trying to make you. Right in front of me. I could scratch her eyes out." She's an old, old friend," Chris said. "I've known her for years. A little wild at times, but she's all right." I suppose you've fucked her." Sure," Chris said, "but it didn't mean anything. We were only fooling around and it sort of happened." Twenty or thirty times, he added to himself.Cathy frowned at him, but she said nothing. "Why don't you get me a fresh drink?" she suggested. "I seem to have spilled mine." While he knelt to get her a clean cup, she wiggled out of her flannel shirt and halter, so that the first thing Chris saw when he turned back was Cathy's bare tits. "These are the tits you came with," she reminded him, "and don't forget it."He gave her the cup of punch then let his hand drop down to stroke the nipple of her left tit. "I don't see how I could," he smiled, feeling the nip come to proud attention between his fingers. "Say, the music is too loud... Why don't we find someplace a.
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