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“I think we’ve established that the old Aden was an idiot,” I answer easily with a shrug. “Besides apparently we never had much of a sex life.”
“We did. With your medication, I mean,” she answers, blinking up at me.
“Well luckily, new Aden doesn’t need medication. And I’ve got to tell you honey, if getting my memory back means I stop getting permanent hard-ons around you, then I don’t want it back.”
“I… you get permanent hard-ons around me?” she asks, clearly shocked.
“Honey, I have zipper impressions on my cock that are probably engrained in the skin now, thanks to you.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
“I’m telling the truth. My balls are fucking blue from the need to fuck you, Hope. Trust me, I don’t need to lie about that.”
“Then why didn’t you… you know?”
“What?”
“Last night, why didn’t you let me please you?”
“Because last night was for you. I’ll get mine soon.”
“You sound awful sure of yourself,” she grumbles, clearly not liking the fact that I know she will give me what I want when I ask—and how I ask.
“Babe. You remember what you were like last night. You lit up like a Roman candle.”
She sighs. “Can we talk about something else?”
“I like this topic.”
“I see the answer is no,” she huffs.
“You could take me in the bathroom and show me your tits. That might get me through for a bit and I’ll let you change the subject.”
“Fine, we’ll talk about sex,” she growls.
“So we’re saying it’s a no, to the whole tits in the bathroom scenario.”
She ignores me, and there’s mischief in her eyes when she grins at me. That should have been my first warning.
“You used to like it when I spanked you.”
“What? No way. You’re talking crazy talk now.”
“Seriously you used to beg me to spank you and punish you for being a bad boy.”
“I did not.”
“Oh, but you did. I didn’t like it, but I never judged you for it.”
“Hope, there is no way this is true.”
“Of course it is. Why would I say it, if it wasn’t?”
“I know it can’t be.”
“But then, you don’t remember do you? You shouldn’t feel embarrassed about it. I mean, pleasure is an individual thing, however you find it, you find it really.”
“I might not be able to remember, but I know enough about my reactions to you to say unequivocally that if any spanking was done, I was the one doing—”
“Getting the spanking,” she interrupts. “Although, you liked it best when I used the plug and—”
“It’s been a really nice day. How about you stop talking now before that’s no longer true,” I growl. What she’s saying feels completely foreign to me. In fact, the more she keeps talking about it, it feels like my dick is trying to crawl into my balls to hide.
“Are you embarrassed, Aden?” she asks innocently. A little too innocent.
“Why you witch!” I start, but before I can scold her further we’re interrupted.
“Oh my God! Bonnie! Did you see this guy? It’s Bolt!” An old woman who looks like she’s on the wrong side of eighty and leaning on her walker cries excitedly. I would have ignored it, but she’s standing in front of our table.
“Doreen, that’s not Bolt Lawson,” another woman answers. I turn to look at her and she looks to be close to the same age as Doreen, but she doesn’t have a walker. They’re both wearing similar nylon jogging suits and fanny packs. Older tourists, which apparently are popular in Twin Falls, as we’ve seen them all day long. This is the first time however, that I’ve been singled out.
“I’m telling you this is Bolt Lawson, that fireman!”
“Uh… ladies…” I start.
“I’m telling you it’s not. This guy has too much gray and he looks way too old.”
Wow. Okay, that was like a sucker punch. Nothing like being called old by a lady who could be your grandmother.
“But it is! Bolt, sugar, you did the right thing.”
“I did?” I ask, by this time completely confused.
“Yes! Krystal was all wrong for you. Anyone could see it.”
“She wasn’t wrong for him Doreen! She was a cheating cow!”
“Well, that makes her all wrong for Bolt!”
“For the last time, that’s not Bolt.”
“It is! I can prove it,” Doreen says.
“You can?” Hope asks, her face almost completely devoid of color. Are these old ladies scaring her? They’re definitely strange, but generally harmless—well, unless Doreen decides she wants to beat me to death with her walker.
“I certainly can! Bolt, look at me with those bedroom eyes of yours and repeat after me,” Doreen instructs.
“Bedroom eyes?” I ask, looking at Hope for help, but she’s staring up at Doreen, oblivious.
“Say this,” Doreen instructs.
“Uh…”
“Doreen, honey, don’t you worry. I’m here to put your fire out.”
Hope gasps, and her eyes go large and then she laughs—which is better than her looking at Doreen like she might be a mass serial killer. Plus, I love Hope’s laugh. Doreen and Bonnie seem harmless so I decide to go with it.
