It was two days until I started my period and I was so goddamn horny I was ready to screw the neighbor’s dog the next time it came into my yard to pee on the shrubs. Instead, after a long day at the office, I showered and slipped into my favorite over-sized shirt. Padding barefoot and bare-assed down the carpeted stairs, it was my plan to curl up in front of the television for an evening of watching X-rated videos and playing with a variable speed massager that I bought to treat a knee injury but ended up using as a vibrator. As my feet touched the floor of the entry hall, the doorbell rang. I watched a shadow cross the frosted sidelights and gave only fleeting thought to my state of near undress. Not expecting company, I went to the door to dispense of the salesman, missionary or whoever it was and get on with my masturbation marathon.
Cracking the door open, I braced it with my shoulder and peered out onto the porch. Bathed in the orange cast of a street lamp, a late...
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