" She rubbed her heaving chest against my forearm, buttons somehow all undone, her chest flushing even pinker. "My father won't be home before then either, maybe until dark. I think about it in the mornings sometimes and squeeze my legs together, you know, but, but..."She hugged herself, almost pushing both breasts out of her lacey shirt and her voice returned to the whisper. She lifted the leg between mine and her thighs rubbed against me and squeezed. She put her hands high on my back and stroked up and down very firmly. "Philip gave me this thing, made of hard wood, shaped much like his dear little member, but it's not the same, not anything like." She sighed very prettily, rested her head on my chest, and I was not even tempted to refuse her. The statue of William Penn could not have refused her. The elm tree out back could not have refused her.I took her in my arms and held her, feeling the whalebone of her encircling stays, caressing her silky hair, my amoral prod rising to push. Doing some chores made me feel like I was a part of the family and not just a guest living in one of the rooms.Brute's food and water bowls were on the ground just around the corner of the shed. The food bowl was empty and the water was half gone. As I emptied the old water out onto the foundation plants, I marveled at how big the bowls were. Each was the size of a large mixing bowl and would hold over a half-gallon. Everything about Brute was big.I washed out the bowls thoroughly and refilled them. I had no trouble with filling the food bowl from the big bag, as there was a scoop in it for that purpose. I tried to carry the water carefully to keep from sloshing it, but I stumbled over the garden hose and got it all over me anyway. I realized then that I should have used the hose to fill the water bowl rather than carrying it from the sink.I was standing there with water dripping off me when I heard something crash through the woods that bordered the yard. It startled me. It sounded.
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