Tit for Tat

I was on the front porch emptying the vacuum cleaner when Bill and Cindy walked by.
"Getting ready for Halloween?" Cindy yelled.
"Just starting," I shouted back. "If only I had a dumpster."
The Dumpster of Doom had been the best year ever for Halloween decorations.
I headed across the lawn to chat with my neighbors so that we didn't have to yell, then, when I heard a noise at the door, turned back to let the hound out so that he could visit his friends.
Ray bolted across the yard, greeted his girl, then flopped to the ground, exposing his belly.
As I continued past him, heading to the sidewalk, I glanced over to see Cindy bending over to give Ray a bellyrub. One big dog paw came up to rest squarely on her breast.
"You do like my boobs, don't you?" she said to Ray fondly.
Cindy straightened up and said to Bill, "Did you see Ray cop a feel?"
"No," he replied, laughing.
"Here, watch this," said Cindy.
She bent over the still-reclining dog and put one hand on his chest. Again Ray's big paw came to rest, this time on Cindy's upper arm, then ever so smoothly, the paw moved to alight on Cindy's breast.
I shook my head. Boys. They're all the same.