A look outside.

Outside, the furl of suburbia shudders under the sunlight. Sitting on the front lawns are blades of grass tipped with dew and abandoned porch swings, dog houses and dusty recreational tools.

Suddenly, Mrs. Harrison, out for a morning jog, crosses past. She waves at Mom and Jessica just before the whir of our car signals their pending departure.

I tinker with the crumbs on my now empty dish as the car tumbles into the street.

The next second, I am out the door, throwing one crumpled jacket over my faded white tee.

"Mrs. Harrison!" I call out earnestly.

The older, brown-haired mother of two had stopped to tie a loose shoelace. She rises up at my voice. "John!" she straightens. "How are you?"

"Never better." I look her over. She may be in her early 40's, but her face sustained her natural beauty over the years -- as did her body -- remarkably well.

"Nice morning, isn't it?" she sets her hands on her hips.

"Really is." I lend an agreeable shrug.

"No school today?"

I shake my head. "It's Saturday."

"Oh," she laughs, "right. Sorry, forgot you are still in high school." Both hands pummel her thighs. "You're so mature for your age!"

"I know."

I point downward.

"And so is my cock," bumbles out my two stalwart lips, straight to her face. Adding, "Want a ramming?"

"Oh, you know I would," the woman wipes her brow with the back of her hand before rubbing it against the waistband. "But I've got somewhere to be. Maybe another time!"

She waves and jogs away.