"Ohhh… Yaaahhhh! I'm gonna come, darling! Ohhhhhh!"

Her thin arms flailed the ground and she beat against Perry's back. She was so excited she was seeing stars. And she couldn't get enough air, couldn't scratch that lovely tickle enough. The explosion ripped through her and she could no longer stifle her passion. She gave a long, shuddering cry and fell limp on the grass.

Perry was up, jerking at his pants and looking around like the marines had landed. Abby could see him spinning in panic. Of course her father must have heard her scream. Everyone must have heard it, even Jim the chauffeur who lived down by the garages. She pushed herself weakly onto an elbow but slumped back. Perry bent over her, pulling both arms.

"For God's sake, Abby get up. Somebody'll be coming."

"You might zip your fly," she managed, staggering to her feet and leaning heavily against the nearest tree. Her sandals were somewhere in the long grass. She felt around with her feet, holding onto the tree for support. Someone was tapping on the French doors that opened onto the patio from the house. Perry went over and swung them apart.

"Hello Mr. McNarey, awful good to see you, sir." Perry was breathless, trying to comb his hair. But he was using the back of the comb instead of the teeth. Abby looked at Perry, then at her father, and began to laugh. Carl McNarey frowned and pushed a hand through his thick hair. For a man of fifty he looked like dynamite and he knew it. Abby was always amused at his vanity.

"Abby, what was all that…?"

"I'm just fine, Dad. Perry was tickling me and I couldn't get loose. I just had to scream." Her father fingered one of his biceps and glanced at Perry. Perry nodded and laughed. He was so nervous he was about to pee his pants. Again Abby enjoyed watching him squirm.

"Won't do it again, sir," Perry blurted. "Just got carried away."