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My dad was shaving. When he came out I rushed in. I slipped out of my blue pajamas and sat on the crapper. I shit so much I clogged the bowl. The door...was open a crack. It was loud and smelly. I released another turd. Many more. I looked threw the crack in the door and saw Dale's eye. He was staring at me. He ran off when I noticed. I wiped my little pink butthole. I thought about my brothers. When I was done, Mitchell walked up to me and smiled. I still had pieces of toilet paper in my ass so. I doubted we would, but it was worth a try. I heard nothing from Lisa the next week, then out of the blue, a text message, to ask if I wanted to visit a Roman road on Sunday.We met in the car park of a local beauty spot and walked along the route of the old road. I had taken a picnic blanket from the car and we sat in a secluded spot and ate our lunch. Gradually, we moved closer until we were touching.We kissed again, almost as an experiment to see if we still liked it. The kisses grew stronger. “You must be Delia?” “Must I?” As an opening exchange, it’s not up there with the greatest. It transpires she isn’t Delia, but Lily, Delia’s daughter. Apparently the business had been built up over several years, and when Mother handed over the reins, they decided to keep the name, simply for continuity, and besides which, she didn’t want to pay for new signs to be made! Lily listens intently as I explain my tale of woe. Her general demeanour is quite aloof, not exactly a warm soul, but. They were virtually forced out of the British Overseas Territory. Any money would do and she would offer to show her then blooming great black bosoms for sixpence, now the five pence coin, was then known. The nickname had stuck and now and then earned her nothing but the small coin. She was always grateful for small mercies.“Lets ‘av a feel darlin,” Syd chuckled, not waiting for a response, delving into her heaving sweaty cleavage and hefting the elderly whoppers out of her hammock like.
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