Telling his wife Pauline about the pinch Dylan was in and the need for a place to stay wasn't easy for Randy. Knowing how picky she was about who came and went in the house, Randy was almost sure the answer would be 'no'. And Paula's initial response had in fact been just that, leaving Randy with the difficult task of trying to formulate a way to break the bad news to the 19 year old who had politly asked for his and his wife's help. Randy was seriously worried that he would probably lose one of his most dependable and sturdiest employees over it but he had always deferred to Paula when it came to matters concerning the house.
A little over an hour after Paula's initial declaration of 'no' however, she approached her husband and sat down beside him in his recliner as he nursed a can of Old Milweakee.
Randy's ears immediatly perked up as he felt Paula sit down to his right. Whether it had been her natural human instinct of caring or the fact that in some way she felt personally responsible for Dylan Hyatt's good health, Pauline Lindsey changed her mind and told her husband that it would be OK for the boy to stay for a few days until he got his life straightened out.
It was exceedingly difficult in Paula's line of work not to develop some sort of 'guardian angel' complex with the children she helped along the way. When you rescue a youngster from a situation that had gotten so bad that the State needed to step in, it was natural to feel a connection and a duty to try and help that child find his or her legs in life, even years after the original meeting.
Thus, the thought of putting Dylan on the street, eventhough he was now 19 and an adult, simply became too much of burden for Paula to deal with.
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The very next night, when Randy arrived home from work at a little after 7, he brought with him his 19 year old stock boy, armed with only two overnight bags containing everything he owned.
Paula had stayed up the better part of the entire night before getting the spare bedroom cleaned out for Dylan's brief stay and had in turn taken off early from work that afternoon to prepare a big dinner for Dylan's arrival.
"You never cook like that for me," Randy friskily chided into Paula's ear before the couple sat down to eat.
"Maybe if you promised to be gone a couple of days after I did...maybe I would," she snickered back.
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Just like any couple when they have a stranger in the house, the Lindsey's became acutely aware of every breath they took and noise they made. In that vein, the rampant increase in Paula and Randy's sexual activity completly dried up during the first few days of Dylan's stay. Having been use to the nightly dose of gratifying release before going to sleep, husband and wife were left to lay side by side on their respective halves of the bed, quietly making small talk until drowsiness finally swept them away.
Reverting back to old patterns, Paula spent a majority of time those late nights without sex alone in thought, rehashing her day at work, making plans for how to handle the next day, and for reasons she couldn't quite define, replaying the snipets of conversation she would have night to night with Dylan once he returned from the store with Randy. Having long gave up the hope of every having any children, it was almost like having a son home for a week or two from college. On the other hand, it was very cathartic for Paula as well to see that all of the stuff she tried to accomplish on the job wasn't a complete waste from the way Dylan had successfully made it to adulthood.
Paula drifted off to sleep everynight that week with a proud smile on her face despite the fact that there was a gnawing sensation of something vaguely under the surface that she was missing as it pertained to Dyaln's presense in the house.
Resting quietly beside his wife those first few nights of Dylan's stay, Randy Lindsey entertained vastly different thoughts before giving way to sleep.
Having gotten use to getting his rocks off before bed as well, Randy found it increasingly difficult to contain his arousal with each passing night. While his wife rested beside him basking in the glow of her professional success to get her through those rompless nights, Randy laid to her left, stealing a peek at her face and body every once in a while, allowing his rekindled libido to imagine Dylan masturbating in his room down the hall, just as he had done so graphically in the Lindsey's den the day he came over to help with the fence.
"I know he's in there doing it right now," Randy would frequently blather to himself as he pictured the boy's hulking frame standing beside the bed, whacking off right in front of Paula's real face instead of a picture of her like he had weeks earlier.
"I bet his dick's standing straight up in the air right now and he's got that meaty hand wrapped tightly around it..and he's jacking it off really..really fast..." Randy would fantasize over and over while his wife dozed until the pressure got to be too much and he would peel away the covers and retire to his master bedroom's small bathroom to relieve the built-up pressure.
"You're just being stupid," Randy would tell himself as he watched his released jism swirl around the bowl after flushing it down.
"You had crushes and fantasies like that when you were his age too...it doesn't mean anything..Hell anyone looks good at that age when you get horny..Paula just happened to be in the right place at the right time...Its no big deal!" Randy would rationalize as he lugged his body back to bed and crawled under the covers with his wife after surviving another night without any real satisfaction for his building urges.
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By Dylan's fifth night in the house, it had become clear that he was planning on staying much longer than everyone had agreed upon. After nearly a full week without any real sexual contact to quench their appetitite, it was clear that Paula and Randy's nerves were each steadily fraying.
Laying in bed on the fifth night of Dylan's stay, Randy rested underneath the covers beside his wife, his dick already half hard as he found himself inching his hand across her warm cotten nightgown, acting as if he was a nervous teenager trying to silently prod his girl into something indecent.
"What are you trying to do?" Paula asked with feinged brevity, fighting off the same trapped urges as her husband was.
"I'm about to burst..that's what," Randy replied as he slowly circled his opened hand around Paula's chest and belly.
"Randy..I thought we talked about this at the beginning of the week..about you know..... Dylan overhearing us and all," Paula reminded her husband.
"I know...I know," Randy sighed. "And it doesn't look like he's ready to leave anytime soon either..I dont know how much more of these quiet nights I can take..so come on..let me slide down under the covers..disappear for a while and see what I can do..come on Paula."
Paula simply shook her head side to side, not having the will to resist her husband's offer to give her a dose of selfish pleasure. Cracking a relieved smile as he deftly snuck his head under the covers, Paula watched the bulge of Randy's head make an eager beeline for the fiery triangle between her legs.
>From the moment Randy placed his face down on top of Paula's steaming crotch, his eyes nearly watered from the pungeant arousal that was flaring out.
"OOOHHH...YEESS," Paula immediatly blurted, forgetting her own promise to keep quiet.
