Always Learning

Continued from Different Flavors of Normal

Doctor Joyce Maple. Bachelor of Science, Biology. Dean’s List four years. Four years of med school plus her downstate residency. Always at the top of her class, now her field. Also one of the most self-aware humans she knew-every move she made was measured, thought through, planned beforehand.  Until last night. Until she turned control over to this young sprite from down the street who was now undoubtedly her lover and tied to her in a way Joyce would have never thought possible.  And who was lying expectantly over her lap.

Joyce really didn’t know what to do with this. Beyond the obvious, of course. The girl’s bottom was presented stretching against the blue panties barely containing it. Last night Megan did unto her. Now, she was charged with taking control and was at a bit of a loss. But she didn’t want to disappoint, especially after the gifts she had received not twelve hours ago. She would do her best.

Her smacks were tentative, light, mostly fingers, directed at the meatiest parts. The girl wriggled after each and never failed to lift in response as if wanting to present a better target.

“Okay?” asked Joyce.

“Yeah, nice. Could be a little harder…”

“Really?”

“Use your whole hand. Like slap me.” Joyce hesitated and rubbed the girl’s back with her free hand. “You won’t hurt me”, Megan said. “Not really.”

Joyce had smacked two people in her life. Betsy Ann Hadar in fourth grade after she had pulled her hair. She had hauled off and slapped her hard on the arm. Then of course, her husband, the one time, across the face. Both of those were harder than what she was laying on Megan.

“Okay, then,” she said lifting her hand higher. She slapped harder and was answered by a mewling “mmmmm…better…”

“Better?”

“Yeah, better. For a wimp.”

“You…” she smiled and pinched an upturned cheek. “I’m not a wimp!”

“You spank like one…”

“Oh really?” she said. “Lift up.”

“Why?” said Megan cheekily, in a whiny voice. With the voice inflection, Joyce got it. She had a six-year-old. She knew how to play games. Maybe not this particular one, but a game was a game.

“Because I’m going to pull down your panties and spank your bare ass!” she said firmly.

“Aw, man…” Megan whined again but lifted her hips. When she did, Joyce stuck her fingers into the elastic of the panties and pulled them, very slowly, down to mid-thigh smiling at the sound of Megan’s soft gaspy moan as she did.

“Now we’ll see who’s a wimp.” Joyce left fly with a swat that landed hard on the bottom of Megan’s bottom with a jolt that stopped them both.

“OH…” Said Megan.

“Better now…?” asked Joyce massaging where the blow had landed.

“Yes. Now more…”

Megan closed her eyes and felt every swat to her toes. She wouldn’t ask her to go harder. This was fine. More than fine. Every smack, every touch of hand to bottom launched her through vivid warp speed memories of the hundreds of orgasms she’d had over the years fantasizing about being spanked over Doctor Maples’ lap. She stopped thinking and was enjoying the ride and the heavy heat and flowing feeling from below.

As Megan had the night before, Joyce listened between smacks using tiny whimpers, or gasps or an “Ooooo…” or an “Awww….” to direct her. She paused to slide the panties all the way down then off. Her swats weren’t as hard as they might have been, but they certainly weren’t light.

Almost five minutes in, Joyce realized that this wasn’t doing it for her. Not really. It was fun, for sure. Being this intimate with another woman was new and exciting and she wondered if she’d ever look at women’s bottoms the same way again. She could have sat here and just rubbed her bottom and it would have been fine. But as Megan’s butt was getting pinker, Joyce’s hand was tingling but not much else.

It was different, but what she really liked was how much Megan seemed to be enjoying herself. Her squeals were becoming moans as she, freed from the binding panties, started to ride her leg like a hobby horse with every smack. She could do this for her, no problem. Especially after last night and the way she…the way she hadn’t… Joyce paused to rub the pert pink cheeks gently. Something had been bugging her.

“Megs?” she said.

“Mmmmm…?” she answered not looking up.

“I’m sorry about last night.”

Megan’s head lifted at that. “Sorry? About what?”

Joyce found it easier to talk with her hand cupping the girl’s warm bottom gently squeezing. “I came three times!” she said.  “In my life I’ve never…then I passed out like a lump.”

“You did check out pretty good”, said Megan rubbing Joyce’s ankle and calf.

“I woke up, it was still dark and you were gone. I missed you…I wanted to…give you something back…”

Now Megan looked back over her shoulder and pulled her hair behind her ear. “Last night was about you my love”, she said with shining eyes.

“The thing is, I’ve never…I don’t know if I can…” she stumbled for the words.

“Don’t know if you can what?”

“Like you did…”

Megan kept gently squeezing Joyce’s calf, letting her work it out.

“I’ve never gone down on a woman…”

“I know that…”

“But I don’t know if…”

“Don’t worry about it. Like kissing, practice makes perfect. I’ve had more practice than you…”

“But if…”

“Shhh…stop thinking about what you can’t do. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Really?” said Joyce brightening and pulling her hand off Megan’s butt.

“Except this!” said Megan, somehow finding loose skin on Joyce’s leg to pinch. “This you have to do. For the rest of your life.”

Joyce laughed lightly and delivered a soft slap. “Bad girl…”

“Yes,” said Megan sighing heavily. “Very bad…” She absorbed a few more slaps before she said, “There are other things you can do.”

“I’m sure.”

“Like right now for instance.”

“I know, shut up and keep spanking.” She did.

“Yes, but there’s something…put your hand on my bum.” Joyce paused and did as she was told. “Now slide it down between my legs.”

“Okay coach,” she snarked. “I know how this works.”

“Prove it.”

Joyce cupped the warm cheek at the top of Megan’s thigh then slid her fingers gently between her legs hesitating not at all as she touched the wetness there.

“Good Lord”, she said sliding easily along the dripping folds.

“A little damp?” came the whisper from the downturned head.

“And the ocean’s a puddle…”

Without any more prompting, Joyce slipped her middle finger into the sopping slit. Megan moaned at the welcome intrusion and shifted her legs wider, lifted her butt higher. Joyce, still responding to movements added a second finger. She worked them gently in and out as the girl began to wriggle and sweetly clenched her bottom cheeks. This Joyce knew how to do from months of solo practice.

When she touched the hard nib of Megan’s clit the girl growled and pitched forward presenting her bottom even more wantonly. Joyce touched it, flicked it, then sliding around in nature’s own lubricant began rubbing with a purpose.

“Oh…oh…Joyce…Joyce….!!!” Megan’s words were cut off and swallowed as she grabbed the woman’s ankle and held tight seemingly ready to stand on her head. “I’m going to… come Joyce…You…are going to make me….UUUHHNNNNN…” And just like that she did. Joyce kept slick contact with the pulsing pearl until Megan, deflated, lay across her lap like a discarded prom dress.

Joyce, ever the perfectionist, didn’t need anyone to tell her she’d done a good job. She smiled and stroked the still warm bottom until she heard a sniffle. “Hey”, she said reaching down to help Megan to her feet. “Are you crying…?”

“No! I mean…not really. Not like crying.” Megan stood unsteadily before her.

“Your cheeks are wet…” Joyce took her hand. “Is that from the spanking?”

“No! No…no…everything. Just…just…wow…” Megan wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands, then stepped between Joyce’s legs and sat on her lap. The warmth of the girl’s naked, moist bottom on her thighs stirred her in a surprising way. Without warning or preamble, Megan wrapped her arms around Joyce’s neck and pulled herself close kissing her deeply. A kiss that was returned in eager intensity. Yes, Joyce was now the one stirring.

They uncoupled and sat still, forehead to forehead, meditatively sharing space and breath in a way that seemed natural. Time had, if not stopped, slowed to a glacial pace as neither wanted to break the seeming spell that had befallen them. Then, without a word, as if prompting a cat, Joyce used her forehead to push Megan backward. With the space open between them she slipped the girl’s jersey over her head knowing that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Then she pulled her close again to slide her hands over the girl’s naked body and accepting her head onto her shoulder.

After a moment, or an hour, “Megan?”

“Hmmm…?”

“Would you take me to bed and teach me something?”

Megan lifted her head and nibbled at Joyce’s ear before answering. “What do you want to learn?” she whispered.

“Everything you know….”

Megan pulled away, a crooked smile on her lips. She kissed her Doctor on the cheek and stood, more steadily this time. “Come my queen”, she said reaching toward her.

Joyce took her hand and rose, then happily followed the pink rump into the house.

 

 

The Summons

Continued from In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning

The summons, as she jokingly thought of it, came in a text around eleven. Normally an early riser, Megan was still fast asleep in a soft post-coital cocoon of soft, salty smells and sticky fingers. She found the pinging phone under a pillow and blinked to read without lifting her head:

Apparently, Saturday pizza is now a thing. Delivery at four. Be here.

She smiled and dropped the phone. Joyce would never in a million years have ended an invitation like that before last night. She smiled and closed her eyes again-enjoying being summoned. She allowed herself a small daydream of Joyce’s thighs and bottom and, as it took hold, wished she could fall back to sleep to consummate it. Not willing to overindulge her lustful leanings, she finally mumbled, “Yes my queen” and with a wry smile sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed.

She could still feel an itch on her backside where she’d punished herself which led to a deeper tingle between her legs. She shook it off. “What a night…” She wandered down the hall to the shower.

She turned the radio on. The news was about the plague, of course. The voice on the speakers verified what Joyce had been saying over the last couple of weeks. The virus appeared to be on the wane; whether for good or for awhile no one really knew, but the world was starting to open up again. As if to prove it, Megan watched out the kitchen window as more people than usual seemed to be out wandering the neighborhood. Most in masks, sure. But out.

While everyone on the radio breathed a sigh of relief-and Megan was happy about a return to at least some semblance of normalcy-she couldn’t help feeling a pang of dread that something might be ending just as it had gotten started. “Selfish”, she decided and headed out to the garage with a cup of coffee intent on killing a few hours.

A little after four she took a bottle of wine out of the fridge and slipped it into her shoulder bag.  With a bandana tied loosely around her neck she retraced the steps she’d taken twelve hours before. She dodged a few bikes and nodded or waved to folks who recognized her. She was strolling with a purpose-not hurrying but not giving the impression that she wanted to tarry either.

How would this go? Last night was hot-they both were leaking wet and famished for the taste of each other. Now how would they react with the fire safely banked, when every touch didn’t burn. When every word wasn’t simmering?

The house pinged when she let herself in and Tommy ran down the hall to greet her. “Hey Megsy! You made it!” He gave her a quick hug that was almost a push then ran back toward the kitchen by way of the front sitting room. “Pizza just got here!”

Joyce was in the kitchen moving the pie from the box onto a wooden board wearing a pair of high-cut running shorts and a tie-dyed t-shirt which made her look more grad student than doctor. Megan gulped at the sight of her legs.  She had never seen Joyce in these shorts unless she was running.

“You’re late”, she kidded. “Leaving me all this kitchen duty.”

“I brought wine!” she smiled pulling the bottle from the sack.

“And just like that, you’re forgiven.”

Not wanting to wait for Joyce’s greeting, Megan stepped close and slipped her arm around her waist pulling her in. Joyce bent to meet her lips. The kiss was warm, wet and lingered a moment. Joyce kept her mouth mostly closed, but it was definitely not a chaste kiss between buddies.  Still not wanting to push, Megan pulled away first. Joyce smiled almost shyly. “Did we even kiss last night?” she asked.

“I honestly don’t remember”, Megan answered allowing her hand to slide from Joyce’s hip across her the slick fabric pulled tightly over her bottom. “Nice shorts”, she said. “These old things?” Joyce flirted. By the time Tommy spun back into the room they were on opposite sides of the island and Megan was opening the wine.

“When’s pawpaw coming?” Tommy asked.

“Five o’clock Bud….”

Megan looked at Joyce with comically wide eyes. “Company?”

“Not for us. My mom and dad have been in quarantine for three weeks for the express purpose of getting Tommy for an overnight when it seemed prudent. It seems prudent.”

“They have a pool!” squealed Tommy.

“Take these”, Joyce corralled her son with paper plates and napkins. “I’ve got this”, she picked up the pizza. “You”, she looked at Megan, “bring the bottle and glasses. There’s a cooler out there. And close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”

Continued here Different Flavors of Normal

 

Plague Life – Part IV

Continued from Plague Life – Part III

They ate the pizza on the back-yard patio. This time of day the sun was dipping behind the oaks and only winked at them through the leaves as a light breeze kept the bugs at bay. It was good to be outside and Tommy, bored with a sit-down meal after half a slice, was fine taking a bite then running to the swings or playing catch off the shed roof and coming back for another. No surprise he had demurred on the salad his mother had made but she and Megan were enjoying the treat that fresh produce had become.

Both women sat with their backs to the house at opposite ends of the glass-topped table where they could watch him. Their legs were up on spare chairs and the glasses of iced tea sweated tiny puddles that ran zig-zagging toward the center of the table carrying crumbs along in their wakes. It was the kind of day to notice things like that. Joyce caught Megan looking at her once, but only because she had been glancing at Megan. That made Joyce smile and give her head the tiniest of shakes.

“What?” asked Megan.

“Nothing”, she answered with still the ghost of a smile. Megan noticed the fine fuzz that glittered on Joyce’s neck with the sun twinkling on them. With her eyes on Tommy running over to the table Joyce spoke without moving her head. “Slept like a rock last night.”

“You were probably due”.

Tommy stopped himself at the table and grabbed his slice of pizza. He tore at it with a roar then slapped it back onto the plate. Megan tossed him a napkin which fluttered to the ground as he wheeled and ran back to the swings.

“I think it was the massage”, said Joyce.

“Could have been. You were pretty well knotted up.”

“I felt that.” She took a sip of her drink and set it down away from the puddle it had made. “I might…I mean, …I might have a favor to ask you.”

“What?”

“You can say no.” Joyce looked at her and pulled the glasses down over her nose for the second time today. Had never noticed her doing that. Was she going for coy or maybe mid-thirties cute? Whichever, she was pretty much hitting it.

“Not without hearing what it is.”

“I used to get massages at Standing Stone”, she explained. The Stone, as it was known in Joyce’s circle, was a day spa that offered a menu of pricy and elaborate massage and body treatments.

“Yeah, you’d mentioned it once or twice”

“You ever been?”

“No. Outta my league.”

“Yeah, they’re expensive. But they took good care of me every couple of weeks. I was wondering, after what you did for me last night” she paused, glancing up in the sky as if waiting for the question to be communicated to her so she could pass it along. “Can you do a full body? Or legs?” She was sliding the words out quickly, hardly opening her mouth, wanting them to be in the air but hesitant to say them. Was it dumb feeling this nervous? It was a simple question, she was telling herself, knowing full well it wasn’t and she was lying.

Megan only cared to hear that she was asking for full body massage. She had given them before with and without subtext. Megan had told Joyce about the kinesiology class but not about the sports massage workshop she had taken because an aspiring trainer in the class had talked her into it. And she also wouldn’t mention that the aspiring trainer was a short blonde from up country named Becca who’d taught her a fair amount beyond longitudinal gliding.

“I’ll pay you, of course”, said Joyce, misreading her silence.

“You will not…”

“Come on. I’d want to. This is a lot to ask…I’m feeling like I might be taking advantage.”

“It’s just that, I can do the basics, you know? Nothing the pros like they have at The Stone.”

“The Stone’s closed now. It’s just you and me…”

Megan let the last words breathe a bit as she bit into a fresh slice. Amazing how long Folino’s crust stayed crisp, even beyond the cheese cooling. Some kind of magic, no doubt. Joyce was looking her way, but the glasses were masking her eyes and this time she wasn’t pulling them down her nose. Thinking of Becca brought back memories of their early flirting. Words didn’t always mean what they seemed to mean. Or they did, but they meant something else too. Something more. Megan had been concerned that, if it came to it, she wouldn’t have the nerve to make the first move. Now maybe she didn’t have to.

“I’ll give it a shot, sure. I have some oils and lotions at home. I’ll go get them before you leave so they’ll be here whenever you want.”

Joyce stretched her legs and arched her back, stretching. “Great”, she said, her eyes back on her son.

Continuing here Plague Life – Deleted Scenes

Plague Life – Part III

Continued from Plague Life – Part II

The next day, just after noon, Megan was in the driveway of her parent’s home just down the street from Doctor Maples’ place. She had the base of an antique steamer trunk on a collapsible work bench and was sanding the wooden slats along the frame. The belt sander was loud and the dust was thick enough that she had to stop every few minutes to clear her classes and shake her mask.

She used her mom’s car that was still in the garage, but her dad’s truck was gone. When her parents drove to their place in Arizona two months ago, the plan had been to stay a couple of weeks. Now Megan wondered when she’d see them again. They were happily hunkered on their rented corner of an 800-acre ranch with nothing but nothing surrounding them. Her mother was riding again, and dad was hunting most days and the word “retirement” kept slipping into their conversations.

Megan changed the belt in the sander to a finer grit. She made sure she was busy and didn’t let her mind wander to Joyce and what had happened the night before. Not because she didn’t want to, not because a fantasy of Joyce Maple wasn’t slavering, chained dog at the edge of her subconscious ready to fill her head with all the details she could provide. But she wouldn’t.

Regardless of the fantasies she’d had since childhood about the doctor down the street, Joyce was a friend. Not only had she known her since she was a kid but she trusted her with Tommy. Picturing her naked based on a chance glance and goofy joke seemed a betrayal of some kind.

The blanketing silence of the street settled quickly without the sander’s whine. She shook her hand which was still buzzing a little. There were doves cooing in the pear tree and a distant lawn mower but the street was eerily quiet. Those out tending to their yards or Mr. Jensen, waxing his car again, seemed hushed as they went about their chores.  She was about to bend to the task again when she heard Tommy from down the street.  Six-year-old boys do not do hushed.  “Hey Megsy”, he called. She removed her fogging glasses. He was riding his bike toward her and waving.

“Hi Tommy!” she waved back, instinctively glancing up and down the street for cars. “Where’s your mom?” she asked then bit her tongue as if the innocent question would reveal something. Would she have asked that question that quickly yesterday? Two days ago?

Tommy had braked at the bottom of the drive. “She’s coming”, he said and pointed.

And there she was. Joyce had just stepped into sight from behind the mammoth rhododendron at the end of the block. She was wearing old jeans that were ripped at the knees more from use than fashion and a long-sleeved crewneck running shirt-a souvenir from some five K or other she’d run over the years. Her running shoes were a striking blue, a coincidental match with her sunglasses. Strolling more than walking she looked lankier than she was. Her mask was hanging at her throat, ready to be pulled up if anyone passed or wanted to exchange words from across the sidewalk or over the hedge.

The visions that Megan had tried to hold off crashed through the walls of her consciousness like the Kool-Aid man as she watched Joyce’s languid approach. She cut her eyes from her chest not wanting to go there. This is ridiculous, she thought.

“You’re comin’ to eat with us”, Tommy cried.

“Oh, am I, now?” Megan said smiling. She had pulled her mask down so he could see her face.

“This one talked me into pizza from Folino’s for dinner”, said Joyce, close enough now to join the conversation.

“And you’re gonna come!” Tommy yipped.

“Is that OK?” asked Joyce. “I know we said five but….”

“Naw-that’s good. What time?”

“Four?”

“Easily done.”

Joyce pulled her sunglasses down her nose and gave her a look. “You’ll have time to clean up, right?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Good” said Joyce turning away with a slight tilt like a small plane leaning toward home. “See you then.”

Tommy was off up the street and out of earshot. “Hey Doc,” Megan called to her. “I enjoyed you walking away more last night.”

Joyce said nothing but, without missing a step, spun slowly and grinning with her tongue between teeth that had never looked so white, wagged both fingers like a kid playing quick draw, before turning away again with maybe, just maybe, a little switch in her hips.

“Sweet Jesus”, thought Megan.

Continuing here Plague Life – Part IV

Plague Life – Part II

Continued from Plague Life – Part I 

In the kitchen Megan could hear the water running in the shower. Her heart had settled, and she was breathing almost normally again. What the hell was that? She smiled widely as the pan heated and she pulled the bread from the freezer and um, cheddar, she decided, from the fridge. She dropped two slices into the toaster but waited to drop them. When the oil in the pan was just shy of shimmering, she poured in the egg whites and over filled a glass of Chablis.

In the shower Joyce was still shaking her head not quite believing what she’d just done but smiling at the thought of it. She’d apologize, of course. What the hell was she thinking? But that’s as far as she got before starting to giggle again. She was thorough under the hot stream but fast. She wanted to get out to the kitchen. She turned the water off.

Megan put the cheese on the eggs and folded the omelet, smacking her lips at the tartness of the wine. The bread went down and she pulled a robin’s egg blue Fiesta Ware plate from the cabinet knowing how good it would look with the white omelet. Would she have cared about the presentation of a midnight omelet an hour ago?

When she heard the door open to the mudroom Megan pulled her mask, which had been hanging around her neck, up over her mouth and nose. The kitchen was spacious and wide open, but they’d been cautious. Joyce came in, her short auburn hair damply cupping her face.  The towel she had covered with earlier was around her neck and she was wearing a clean set of green scrubs. Seeing without looking Megan could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra. Probably no underwear either but impossible to tell. Megan mentally slapped herself in the head for thinking about that, but it had been a weird evening.

“Yessss…” Joyce said, sipping an offered glass of wine as she sat. She also ooohed and ahhhed at the omelet but didn’t spend too much time admiring it. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until she began eating. She worked around the crisp edges of the eggs and wolfed down half a piece of buttered toast. “This is wonderful…Thank you.”

“Easily done…”

“…About earlier….”

“What?” said Megan innocently, using her eyes to compensate for the smile the mask was covering.

“I was tired…giddy, I guess…”

“Stop it…”

“No! Really. And I’m not a modest person…”

“Obviously…”

“I can’t be. Not now. That was my fourth shower today. We’re all the time in locker rooms, underwear, bare-assed changing clothes. I shouldn’t have…”

“Here. Can I do something?” Megan asked. Without really waiting for permission she slipped behind Joyce and put her hands on her shoulders.

“Wait…” Joyce protested.

Megan said nothing, just began kneading Joyce’s shoulders and neck.

“Don’t…”

“Oh Shush!” She continued to knead her shoulders ignoring Joyce’s words and instead following the lead of her head lolling from side to side. They’d been in close quarters for over a month-essentially quarantined together so while this could have been seen as risky, neither was immediately willing to stop.

“I warn you”, said Joyce, “I might cry. It wouldn’t be the first time today.”

“You also laughed, so it’s been a big day.” She left a hole in the conversation in case Joyce wanted to fill it. When she didn’t, “You should do whatever you want. This is your home-this is your safe place. You want to cry, cry. You want to laugh, laugh.”

“What about mooning the babysitter?”

“By all means”, she said giving her a firmer squeeze.

“Does feel good.”

“I audited a kinesiology class.”

“Really?”

“I didn’t finish. There was a guy, then there wasn’t. But I learned a little of this.”

“You have a gift.”

“You’re sweet. And beat. What are you doing tomorrow?”

Joyce wasn’t due at the hospital till six tomorrow evening, so she was planning a day of nothing. Vegging with Tommy. They talked softly as Joyce ate and Megan continued to work the knots out of her shoulders. She’d be over at five to help get her off and ease the separation that Tommy always felt. It was their routine but there might have been another layer to it now. Joyce felt it as did Megan. And neither regretted it.

Dinner over and the massage finished, Megan moved toward the door. “I’ll be working in the garage all day tomorrow. Refinishing a trunk that I found in a shop a couple months ago, before the world changed. I’m available. If you need me before five, just text.”

“I’ll be fine”, said Joyce. “See you tomorrow…”

“Yep”, then pausing with a smile behind the mask, “Thanks for the bum shot.”

“Get out of here.”

She left and Joyce sat, nursing the wine and rubbing her shoulder where Megan’s hands had just been. It felt like they were the first hands on her in months.

Continued here Plague Life – Part III

Georgie

Georgie was sitting behind the station drinking the cheapest quart that thin money could buy. His mask was flapping, hanging from a band over one ear and showed stains of paint overspray, tobacco, blood and probably snot if I got close enough to look. Betting he found it. He was leaning to the left, away from his bottle hand, because the bleached-to-pink red resin chair he was sitting on was dumpster salvage-tossed there with a broken leg. I tried to steer clear because Georgie was always good to bum a buck or two which was okay normally but not so right now. He saw me right enough, but all he wanted was an ear in passing. “They should drop an atom bomb on all of it”, he said, looking at me but not-as his eye tended to float and wander. “Wipe out all this sickness and disease at once.” “Georgie,” I said moving on, “That would take us out too.” “That’s what I mean”, he coughed. “Start again but get it right this time. Have god not make any animal that walks on two legs. Give us enough time, we’ll just fuck everything up!” I slowed, waiting to see if he was done. He didn’t seem sure.