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Amanda had first seen such a shirt when she was sixteen, during one of our annual October visits to the region. Barb had quickly squelched Amanda's en...husiasm. "I don't want everyone thinking you're a slut, Amanda," she had chided.After losing Barb this past April, I had decided to keep the Pennsylvania Dutch trip tradition in October. Amanda and I drove to the area, taking a ride on the Strasburg Railroad and eating at the Plain & Fancy Farm family style restaurant. We then walked around the. My light illuminated a bunch of rats. They scurried off into the night. They'd been eating away at the carcass of what looked like a dead cat. They were just a part of the circle of life in Detroit.The pounding in my head grew worse. It was like a drum. Over and over again just one long, relentless fucking beat.The drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain. Oh, La dee da de dee. La dee da dee da. Murder's on the menu once again. Oh, La dee da de dee. La dee da dee da.And the beat goes on. The. .. The doorbell rang and I woke up to open the door.The infamous Darryl was standing out there and I let him in.The black guy was really a tall big man, very muscled. He had a nice smile and looked like a good guy. We shook hands and I offered him a drink.I led him to the back yard, where Ana was waiting for him.The guy got a big smile as he saw my sensual wife there outside. I went to the bathroom while they got to know each other. I later went to the kitchen and looked outside through the. My horny Harry was likely up to no good again and was responsible for the tingling aroma filling the space around me.The low hum of something battery powered emanated from the master bathroom. The old reprobate must be either shaving or doing something more insidious. I finally identified the scent as the special lubricant we used when Harry was determined to make use of my rear door. It was an act that I personally abhorred with a deep seated distaste. But the poor man begged me and did.
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