“Do me?” I asked, moving two of my dogs to my free hand.
She blushed as she lined my fried dogs with mustard.
I motioned for her to follow me to an open table. As we sat down, a man came up, immediately wanting an autograph. Some of the other players hated when fans approached them, but not me. I loved it. They were the reason I played. I used to be one of them. I handed Katrina two of my corn dogs and took the pen the man handed me. I wrote a quick note to his son as he requested on the back of a brown bag from the store next door and then scribbled my name. “Good luck this season,” he said, continuing his journey down the Boardwalk.
“That was sweet,” she said, her eyes flickering with a hint of admiration.
“What? It’s just an autograph.”
“Yeah. But to him, it’s so much more. And his son, when he takes that home to him. You just made his day.”
I took a large bite of my dog, reached to grab the other two from her, and ignored the compliment.
Katrina Delaney took tiny bites of her corn dog. Her perfect white teeth barely grazed the breading as she nipped away to the inner meat. I watched with delight as I remembered how she guzzled my cock down her throat the night before. Damn, this woman was driving me wild.
I’d finished two of mine and was working on the third when a little black kitten with long frizzy hair rubbed against my leg. Katrina squealed, reaching down to pick it up.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“It’s all alone. Oh my God, it’s so little,” she cooed, nestling the small creature against her cheek.
“Someone probably dropped it off here. They figured some sap would feel sorry for it and take it home,” I said, realizing I wasn’t being as sweet as she would’ve liked me to be.
“But what if no one does? It could drown in the ocean.”
“Cats don’t get near water.”
“It’s probably scared,” she insisted.
“Does it look scared?” I asked, watching as the furry kitten snuggled into her neck.
It was purring so loudly, I could hear it from across the table, even over the loud arcade games blasting just feet away.
“It’ll starve,” she gasped.
My heart suddenly ached for this kitten. Not because I thought any of the things she said were true. But because she loved it so deeply, so quickly. It was just a little kitten, but she immediately felt a sense of responsibility for it. Katrina Delaney had a very soft side to her. She did indeed.
“Give her your corndog,” she said, eyeing my last one.
These were the best corndogs I’d ever eaten. This kitten had probably already had ten meals today by the looks of the fat belly Katrina’s fingers were rubbing. I really didn’t want to give up my meal.
Her large eyes widened, her lips pouted. I was doomed. I handed her the corndog, smiled as if I didn’t care to lose it, then watched her feed the little furry creature from her hand.
“Is that your kitten?” a little girl asked.
Her mother stood at the counter ordering their food, looking back at her to make sure she was safe talking to strangers. Katrina moved the kitten toward the little girl’s open hand, letting her pet it, and creating a wide smile on the little one's face. “I just found her. I think she’s lost.”
“Mommy, Mommy, can we keep her?” the little girl whined to her mother, who looked exhausted.
“Please, Mommy!” the little girl continued as the mother handed her a corndog.
“Is this your cat?” she asked Katrina.
“No. I’m afraid someone just left it here.”
The mother looked worn down by the child’s pleas, and the story of the abandoned cat. It was amusing to watch the women all fawn over the animal, unable to walk away from its plight for a home. “You sure you don’t want it?” the mother asked, obviously hoping for Katrina to say yes, she was taking it home, naming it Fluffy, and loving it forever, and ever, and ever.
“I’m only here for a few more weeks,” Katrina explained.
“Aren’t you Todd Morris?” the mother asked, suddenly no longer interested in the kitten.
“Yes,” I replied with a smile.
Her entire demeanor changed. “You can have the cat, baby. On one condition,” the mother said, her eyes still on me.
“Anything,” the little girl squealed with delight.
Her mother smiled. “You have to name it Morris.”
Katrina laughed, handed the kitten to the little girl, and waved as they walked away.
“I think that mother liked you,” she said, bobbing her eyebrows up and down.
“That was very sweet of you to find the kitten a home,” I said, ignoring her last comment.
“Me? I’m pretty sure the only reason that kitty has a home is because the mother wants to sleep with Todd Morris every night,” she said with a laugh.
The sun was going down, and the lights from the rides just past the boardwalk all lit up the sky. “Ready to ride?” I asked, changing the subject.
“I don’t ride rides,” she insisted.
“Ever?”
“Nope.”
“Well, how are you going to learn anything about me?” I teased.
“I’ll just have to ask you, I suppose.”
“Ask away. But like I said, anything good is gonna require a ride.”
She asked about my mother, I told her I had one. “Brothers, sisters?” she asked.
“One of each,” I responded.
“Are you the oldest?”
“Nope.”
I was loving this game. I wasn’t giving her anything, not really. My answers were so short, so meaningless, that she was asking question after question and coming no closer to getting to know me than the man who fried my corndog.
“What was it like growing up in your family?” she asked, trying to push for more personal details.
“Typical,” I smirked.
“C'mon. You’ve gotta give me something,” she pleaded.
“Then give me something.”
Her cheeks reddened. I wondered if she was thinking about what she’d already given me. I was.
Her eyes moved to my lips. I could see the desire forming in her eyes, the lust growing in her breathing, and the inability to refuse me in her demeanor.
“Slingshot?” I asked, pointing to the large ball hooked to what looked to be a giant rubber band.
Her eyes widened as it was released high into the sky. The people inside screamed out into the night as the ball whipped back and forth until finally lowering back to the ground.
“There’s no way in hell you’re ever getting me in that deathtrap,” she declared.
“You scared?”
“No.” I knew that was a lie.
“Okay. We can start out small. How about the Ferris wheel?”
I couldn’t believe she was still displaying panic. The Ferris wheel wasn’t scary, was it?
She shook her head.
“I’m trying here. But you’re gonna have to work with me,” I explained patiently.
“I told you I don’t ride rides.”