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"Come on; the bedroom's this way."He must see me bristle again because he adds. "Relax. I'm sleeping onthe couch."The house is small and simple. Master with en suite. Two smallerbedrooms with another bathroom. The other bedroom's are unfurnished, andeverything is sparse given Kevin's bachelor lifestyle prior to today.There is one living room and a separate combined kitchen/meals area.Aside from a small laundry and single car garage that was pretty muchit."Bathroom's in there." Kevin indicates the en suite.I move towards it, and freeze.Kevin notices and asks. "What?" What do I look like?" I ask tentatively."Go see for yourself." He thinks nothing of it."I can't. I need warning. Am I.....Am I normal?" No. You look like Quasimodo." He tries to be obviously sarcastic. Hespies something by the bed and moves past me to get it. "If you can'tface the mirror then look at this. It seems to have appeared on mybedside table." He hands me a framed photo."What is it?" I ask, like a stupid. " The top of his head now disappeared behind the still taut hem as he moved closer. How close, I could not tell. He seem to have stopped moving. Self-consciously, I felt the tension of my tightly clad school knickers pressing against the top of my inner thighs and mound, and then, for a moment I thought I felt pulses of breath on my left inner thigh itself; or was it just a breeze from outside?"Can you see it?" Er... No... not yet." His voice seemed to have become quite unsteady.Save for the sound of the waves in the background, we dared not speak nor move for no small amount of time. Only when I heard footsteps approaching did I hastily half-whisper:"Someone's coming!"Shattering the spell of our unspoken collusion. His face suddenly appeared over the hem, so close as to almost brushing it as he stood up. I laid back again against my blazer, replacing my left sandal back on the seat. He nodded thankfully and sat down. The footsteps, louder now, approached and another man.
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To be honest at the end of that day I was almost sick of sex, not quite but almost. On day 93 I got on the phone at 9AM to begin searching for Jethro Morris. Something had drawn him to the Rosedale area. I began with social services. The man with legal access to their computer ran a quick check for me. He found that sure enough his files had been transferred from the Florida Medicaid system to the Mississippi Medicaid system.He told me that Jethro Morris had a sister named Molly. Yes that’s Molly Morris she would be at least fifty I thought, and still stuck with a child’s name. There was very little I could do with the information other than to pass it on to the Sheriff’s people.I finally got Deputy Amos Morris just after lunch. It occurred to me that Amos might take a special interest because they shared the same sir name. “Amos. John. Your man’s name is Jethro Morris. His last know address was in the Tampa area. He has been in the local shelter lately. He went out to.

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