“I hope you’ve got that registered as a dangerous weapon” she mockingly teased, her eyes widening, her lips parting, easing him into her warm mo...th, sucking the swollen limb with eagerness on the way in, dragging her big teeth over the long length on the way out, never once taking her eyes off her husband’s headstone. The blow-job was given with the well-practiced skill and creative longevity that you would expect from a scorned and bitter woman, although the running commentary of filth at her. After 100 miles we get there, we're barely out of the car, and her aunt says to my wife, "What a gorgeous day you have for your drive. I know what, let's go visit your grandmother." A hundred miles later we spill out of the car again. Barely get seated with a cup of coffee when the phone rings. It's a brother or a niece or an ex-in-law. "What? All of you are over there? Well, a bunch of us are over here and we've got steaks going on the grill out back. So come on over, I'll throw a few more. I was secluded in the waist high grass. An unexpected flash blinded me. There in front of me, my camera sat facing up, it had fallen out of my backpack. ‘Damn,’ I whispered to my self. ‘Another picture ruined!’ I was the only one who’d travel to this particular spot, during the beginning of spring. My shoulders slumped and I fell back in frustration. Frustrated with my father for never being there, frustrated with my mother for never caring and frustrated with my brother because he wasn’t. The door from the hall opened. I froze and put my hand on Ted’s shoulder signaling him to stop. I could see in his eyes that he was frustrated. I listened as the footsteps stopped just outside the disabled toilet. My knuckles were white and I did everything to keep quiet, but little ripples kept going through my body from my intense orgasm. “Ted, are you alright?” It was Damien. He was a kid, about seventeen years old, and played Claudio in the play. He’d grown close to Ted since we’d started.
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