"What's going on, Owen?" Going on?" Who's Rupert Butler?" Oh, that's easy. I was a historical novelist — am a historical novelist, and that's the n...me I write under."Her eyes popped with surprise and she smiled. "Oh! They've got one of yours in the library. I've read it. It's ever so good." Actually, it was the worst thing I'd ever done. But I thanked her for the compliment. "I don't advertise the fact," I said, "but Lady Shackles knows about it. She knows I'll be discreet." You'd. “We sure are, Daddy – We’ve got a great system going ... we’ve actually found some current active listings that had been misplaced,” she said with a smile.“I’m really sorry about that kids ... I kept telling myself to go in and do what the two of you are doing, but I am a member of the PSOA,” he said.We all looked at him, wondering what he was talking about?“That’s the Procrastinator’s Society of America – they keep postponing their annual membership meeting,” he said stone-faced.Suddenly, Mom. He had a dead-end job in a convenience store, acar that was falling apart, and a crummy apartment in the worst section oftown. But he was a man, and had never imagined being anything else.He wasn't handsome; he wasn't ugly; he was just thoroughly average; about5'9", sloping shoulders, a very small pot belly; slightly thinning brownhair, although he was only 23; eyes that were a little too close together; anose that was a little too big; a chin that was a little on the weak side.Not the kind of. It was all he could do most days to catch glimpses of her firm Milfish body when he believed she wasn't aware - and it was killing him.Katherine acknowledged his presence with a crooked smile from over her shoulder and reached up on her tiptoes to a reach into a kitchen cabinet for something.As she did, her loose pajama bottoms continued to sag slightly downward revealing the fading tan lines that bordered on her plump, shapely ass cheeks. Her frame was petite but her ample bodily proportions.