I'd woken up before dawn, eating breakfast staring out the dining room window, then did the dishes and started cleaning the house. Dust, wipe down the stove, wipe down the sinks, clean the bathtub, vacuum, sweep then mop and wax the linoleum, clean the windows, sweep off the decks, do laundry, fold and put away what was clean.

By the time the cable guy rank the door I was napping on the couch. He seemed happy that the cable I'd run worked fine and appreciated the fact I'd wired the house for cable already. He complimented me on the job, stood on the deck and smoked a cigarette while we chatted about nothing. He'd mentioned the Silver Star license plate I had, probably hoping to get a story out of it, but I'd changed the subject smoothly.

After he left I wrote the phone number on the white board over the wall cradle phone charger, then turned on the television. The channel guide had a ton of channels.

Did you know there was like eight HBO channels and a channel completely devoted to cartoons? When had that happened?

Movies and TV shows I'd never heard of were all across the on-TV guide channel.

When I saw CNN I snorted.

Lying war-crime fabricated fuck heads.

I'd been interviewed by CNN during the Gulf War. They'd chopped up my interview to make me look like some kind of deranged psychopath lusting for the blood of unwashed Muslim children.

My mother had been horrified.

Over the years I'd met Ted Turner at a dinner for one of his or his wife's pet causes. I flat out told him I'd rather have an MRE packed up my ass with a jackhammer than give him a single goddamn dime after the shit his precious CNN pulled on me.

Pru had apologized, quickly pulling me away, and telling me that I was out of line.

We'd never gotten another invitation.

I'd never donated a single dime to any cause he, his wife, or CNN championed.

Curious, I tuned to the TV to a cartoon channel and sat there and watched. The one with the sponge and the squid made me laugh my ass off. Childish, maybe, but it still was good for a giggle.

I was sitting in the front room, in jeans and boots and my cowboy hat, just watching whatever caught my eye, when I heard gravel crunch in the front. I stood up and looked, seeing Miss Lily-Rylee pulling in. When she got out she was wearing a white wife-beater with targets on the front of each breast and another short skirt, this one higher than the mid-thigh one she'd been wearing yesterday. She'd topped it off with bright pink Hello-Kitty tennis shoes and had her hair pulled back in a ponytail again.

Just seeing her made my mouth go dry.

She bounced up onto the deck and went to knock when I opened the door in front of her. She stood there for a second, her hand still held out to knock, her mouth open.

"You're late, Miss Lily-Rylee," I growled at her, tilting my head to stare down at her.

Her nipples went poinky.

"Uh," she said, staring up at me. She looked at my chest, then up to me eyes and seemed to freeze. She licked her lips, the point of her tongue just barely visible.

"I've been waiting for you," I kept my voice low, growling, doing my best to imitate Tony.

She swallowed, still staring at me. She nodded, just barely, her eyes still locked on mine.

"All morning," I growled. "By. My. Self."

She gave a low moan and made a little swaying motion, her breathing picking up.

OK, enough scaring her

"Come on in, Squidward," I laughed, moving to the side. "I'm just yanking your chain."

"Oh," she said softly, blinking rapidly. She came in, trying to calm herself after I scared her. She walked inside and stopped, looking around. I noticed she had a black scrunchie with a white puffy skull on it holding her hair back.

"Internet's hooked up. The cable guy set it all to download the updates on both computers," I told her.

"Oooh, no no no no," she whined, turning and running for the room where the gaming computer was set up. She vanished through the door. "Oh DAMMIT!" she called out.

"What?" I asked.

"It updated to the newest service pack for Windows, it's going to take me hours to rip all the junk out," She said.

"Want me to make some lunch?" I called out, heading for the kitchen.

"Like what?" Her voice was distracted.

"Um, how about," I paused, opening the fridge and looking inside. "I've got some cold fried chicken."

"Uh, sure, whatever," she said, her voice sounding distracted.

I checked on dinner, added a bit more water, tasted it again, and added some chopped chilis into it before getting two plates and putting some cold fried chicken on them. I went inside the room to see her sitting in the chair, staring at the screen and clicking on things. I set the plate next to her and sat in the other chair.

"Guess what I discovered," I told her.

"What?" She sounded distracted.

"Amazon and eBay," I said.

"Uh-huh," she said. A second later her head whipped around. "Wait, what?"

I shrugged. "I wanted to buy some books, found something called Amazon and another site called eBay."

"Oh, Jesus," she said. She swivelled the chair and looked at me. "How much stuff did you buy?"

"Not much," I shrugged. "I ordered a lot of gaming stuff. Old copies of the AD&D books, some Shadowrun stuff, a bunch of miniatures, stuff to build a gaming sand-table, dice," I thought a moment, "A weight set, a martial arts training dummy, some new linen, some drinking glass, some of my favorite novels, a pillow made out of something called memory foam, and," I saw her look, "some other stuff," I finished lamely.

"Sam, how much did you spend?" She asked.

"Um, I think something like three or four grand," I lied. She arched an eyebrow and I flushed.

She shook her head. "Watch this thing, tell me if it fails. I gotta pee," She stood up and I noticed that her skirt seemed to have problems covering her butt.

I stared at the screen. It was uninstalling software. Whatever it was, she figured I didn't need it on a gaming computer.

She came back, tossed a folded dish towel on the chair, and sat down. She looked at me, saw my upraised eyebrow and blushed.

"I told you, I get all sweaty when I work. You don't want butt-sweat all over the chair," She said.

I nodded, picking up my glass and sipping from it.

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" She asked me, going back to working.

"Letting the burns dry out a little. Let the skin heal a bit," I told her.

"Burns hurt most people," she mumbled. She turned and looked at me. "Did that cable guy convince you to install their software?"

"Um, anti-virus and firewall," I told her.

She shook her head. "Jesus, why don't you just install the mal-ware directly onto your face?" she grumbled and turned around.

I sat and watched her for a while. I made note of which programs she deleted, once in a while asking her why that particular problem. Mostly they were memory or processor leeches or they datamined the computer and what you did.

"Pick a nickname," She said, leaning back in the chair. She was right, she had sweat down her back, gluing her shirt to her.

"What's wrong with Ess-English?" I asked.

"Christ, what's wrong with you? Anonymity, man, fuck. You're identity is your most precious fucking thing, don't let everyone know who you are, dumbass," she told me. The intentness in her eyes fascinated me.

"Um, I don't know, you pick," I told her.

She shook her head. "Uh-uh, your online nickname is fucking important, Tex. It's how people know you are who are you are."

I thought about it. I opened my mouth to tell her what I'd thought up.

"Nothing lame like Killmonger or Headshot ex ex ex four-twenty or some dumb shit. Don't be an asshole and put a bunch of numbers or leet speak shit in it. Don't be a fucking retard and put your birth year or your last four into it either. Pick something good, but not too memorable so you can avoid trolls," she told me.

"Oh," I said. I had planned on trying E5Actual out of a little bit of pride.

She stared at me and I was suddenly fascinated by the bead of sweat that ran between her breasts, down that squeezed together cleft, hitting the edge of the wife-beater and soaking into the wet collar.

"Blushy Boy?" I asked.

"What are you, a fucking gay porn star twink? Pick something better, faggot," she snapped, turning back to the little window. "Something that won't embarrass me to be seen with."

"Kentucky Fried Texan," I chuckled.

"Hmm," she said. "You know, I like that. In-joke, movie reference, food joke, not completely fucking stupid. I like it," she typed it in. Only she used KYFriedTXN, which looked weird. It accepted it and she leaned back smiling.

"Type in a password," she told me. "Don't use your birthday, your social security number, anyone else's birthday. Don't use your wedding date or the day your wife died. Try starting with a letter and using numbers and letters."

I leaned forward and quickly typed in a password. The hexidecimal emergency entrance code to the War Fighter Tunnels under the 2/19th barracks. I'd never forget that code string.

"Damn, that was a hell of password," she said. "You going to be able to remember that?"

"All my life," I told her.

"Ooohkay, we'll get you some games later," She wiped her forehead and went back to work.

She was right, it was hot in the room. I glanced down at where the colored coolant was running into the radiator.

I got up and opened the window, letting in a fresh breeze.

"Oh my God, thank you," She said, still staring at the screen. "Now you see why I'm playing video games in my panties, sweating my ass off."

I flushed.

"Let me give you a hint, Tex," She told me. "Don't go cruising Amazon and eBay at like 3AM with your credit card in your hand. You'll end up buying like a thousand dollars in Chiapets or some shit."

"Not hardly," I snorted.

Miss Lily-Rylee looked at me. "It's happened to better men then you."

Her seriousness made me laugh. I sat, asking questions and watching, while she stripped the software out of the machine and loaded other stuff up. Once she was done with that one, we went out to the other one in the front room.

"Really? Cartoons?" She asked me, pointing at the huge TV.

I shrugged. "They're funny."

She squinted at me. "That's why you called me Squidward, you've been watching cartoons all morning."

I laughed. "Yeah, once I got done with the housework."

She shook her head. "You're an odd one, Tex."

She tossed the dish towel on the chair and sat down. She asked me what I'd use it for, set up the email program, installed antivirus and a firewall, set up the drivers, made sure the webcam worked and told me to always cover it if I wasn't using it, checked the headset, then set it to downloading the software I'd purchased at her suggestion.

When Miss Lily-Rylee got up the dishtowel stuck to her butt for a second before dropping to the floor. When she bent over and grabbed it I got a full view of her butt.

She was wearing a pink thong, the string connecting to the waistband by a little white bow. I couldn't help but notice the very bottom of the V covering her mound had slipped between her lips right before the string exited from between her puffy outer lips.

She had fine blonde pubic hair that was currently matted and gleamed with dampness.

I looked away quickly, pushing away the urge to stare.

women wear clothes that make them feel good not necessarily to entice men

Stokes's voice.

When she turned around I was looking out the window sipping at my tea.

"All right, Texas, time for your daily rub down," She smiled, her aggressiveness vanishing now that she wasn't staring at the computer screen. "The computers should be fine. We'll get you some games in a little bit."

I glanced at the clock. I needed to the pills the doctor had given me anyway.

"I have to take my pills. I'm probably gonna go to sleep," I told her.

She nodded, swaying into the kitchen to refill her glass of sun-tea. "I'll meet you in there, I gotta use the bathroom. Strip down to your boxers, I'm going to sit on your butt again."

I went in, stripping down before laying on the bed. I wiggled, got comfortable, and waited, slowing my breathing and concentrating on not getting an erection.

That view of her naked butt kept trying to surge up.

Miss Lily-Rylee came in, climbing on the bed and straddling me. She sat firmly on my butt and after a moment the cool feeling of the silvadene being spread on the burns started.

I dozed off to her rocking gently back and forth while she worked.