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Mom and Aunt Chelsea greeted each other with the usual pointless small talk while Dad and Uncle Fred shared a brotherly hug.Donald smiled at his cousin. "Hi Liddy, how are you?" Good," she replied without smiling, nodding her head shyly, and looking at him through slightly soiled yellow locks.Dennis rolled his eyes and started off towards the house. "Where's Alan?" he called back to Uncle Fred."Napping. Why don't you go wake him up? You kids should go for a swim." He winked at Lydia, who turned away."C'mon, Liddy, let's get our suits on." Donald grabbed his suit case and carried it inside.Already charged with desire, Donald took his turn in the bathroom as an opportunity to relieve himself. By the time he got to the lake, Alan and Dennis were already in the water. Lydia was watching them from the shore.Donald came up from behind and nudged her playfully. "What's wrong, Lydia, dear? Don't feel like swimming?" She just shrugged.Donald took a running start and front-flipped into the. Looking in the mirror for reassurance and courage I convince myself I ampretty but my make-up is not perfect. My DNA is totally smudged.With a sigh of resignation I retreat to the kitchen and pour myself aglass of wine. I put a little bit of soothing music on the stereo andrelax on the sofa with my legs folded beneath me and a cushion to hug incomfort.Maybe I will go out tomorrow.FinisThis tale was inspired by the following poem. I claim no credit or inputof the poetry. Also it is not for profit or gain. It is merely foreducation and entertainment purposes.I know why the caged bird singMaya Angelou."The free bird leap on the back of the win and floats downstream till thecurrent ends and dips his wings in the orange sun rays and dares to claimthe sky. But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom seethrough his bars of rage his wings are clipped and his feet are tied sohe opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with fearful trill ofthe things unknown but longed for.
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He looked around when there was no one there, then stepped in. "Anyone home?"Upstairs, in her room, with the toy humming between her fleshy white legs, she heard nothing. Her mind was far away, her hands were being tied. The delivery-man was starting to turn back to the door when he noticed her pumps on the floor, and the then the blouse. Curious, he walked into the room and there on the stairway were the stockings. Then he saw the skirt! His brain racing, he put the box on a chair and started quietly up the stairs. And stopped dead and his ears perked up. Humming and whimpering? He felt his groin tighten. Then he saw the panties.Trembling, and erect in his pants, he crept down the hall. The sounds were clear now, but he was still shocked to find her door open and a mature plump woman spread legged with her knees bent, on the bed. Both hands covered her garden, her motions ebbed and flowed. She was making breathy sounds that reached right through his pants and lodged in his spinning.

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