"Half an hour later they were both sitting at the dining table listening to a collection of songs by The Hollies, the one currently playing being 'He ...Ain't Heavy He's My Brother', the hauntingly beautiful song that was among the bands best.The meal was a kind of sweet and sour chicken casserole served with mini baked potatoes and cauliflower in its own creamy cheese sauce. And with it they were sharing a nice white burgundy.'Pretty apt sort of song under the circumstances don't you think?''Yes. ”“That sucks,” Katy sighed.“I know,” I said, “Let the police do their thing and see what happens tomorrow.”“And then?” she asked.That was a good question. I had no clue as to how to proceed. But I knew someone who might - Patrick Shaughnessy. I’d call him in the morning and ask his advice.“In the morning I’ll make a few calls to some people who might be able to help. I have lots of friends and contacts that might be valuable.”“Thanks, Steve.”“Hang in there, Katy. I know it’s difficult.”She. He pressed his groin against mine, and I felt the stirring of his penis. I ran my hands over his bare chest, dropping down to his stomach and abdomen. He moaned appreciatively. He began to massage my breasts, then the thighs, caressing them, edging closer to my pelvic area. I surrendered to him, rolling over on my back so he had uninhibited access to my womanhood. His hand rubbed the vulva and fingers entered into the vagina. He rubbed against the clitoris and found the G spot within. It. If that's true my brother has probably already found her and is porking her at the moment. He was always a bit too interested in what girls had under their skirts. I remember having to wash my own panties because he'd steal them from the dirty clothes hamper if I left them for Mom.He wasn't much of a fighter either. I mean, we lived with Dad. Dad was maybe five two, and had the red hair of your typical Irishman. He loved to play up his heritage and that seemed to come with a quick temper..