I shake my head.
Wow, you put a lot of thought into this process. Well, I should make it worthwhile. I take a picture of my bare legs.
Holy shit, are we exchanging pictures already? This is fantastic news.
The picture is of him lying down, wearing a pair of basketball shorts, on the bed. The elastic rides very low, showing you he’s a landscaper also. His chest perfect, his abs defined. He’s not a muscle man, but it’s the side abs that get me. Cut and lean. That is the best way I can describe him.
Thanks for that. It made it into my spank bank.
I got a lot more where that came from, but I don’t give it away on the first night. Have dinner with me?
When?
Tomorrow.
I shrug my shoulders, thinking what the worse that can happen is.
Sure, where?
My place, your place, the fucking park. I don’t care as long as you’re sitting in front of me.
I giggle.
That’s a good one. How about I meet you at your place say 6 p.m.
Perfect. What’s your favorite thing to eat?
I smirk at myself while I answer him.
Cock. Lots and lots of cock. See you tomorrow, Noah. Send me your address.
974 Sherville Rd. Oh and that answer made this happen.
The picture that comes through is his shorts, hiding a very erect cock.
See you tomorrow, beautiful.
I turn on my side, watching the stars twinkle outside. Closing off my light, the lights from outside stream in. I yawn and slowly close my eyes and drift off to sleep, dreaming of blue oceans and eyes that make me get lost.
My night dreams are of the beach, chasing the waves, running, doing cartwheels in the sand. Sitting in the middle of the sand, taking in the beauty of the sun going down. My alarm wakes me with charm bells. Slowly at first, soft, going higher and higher till it’s like a siren.
“Aunt Kay.” I hear Rachel outside my door. “Mom said to get your bony hind downstairs and get the willy balloons out of the car.”
I turn over, laughing while I throw the covers off, grabbing my robe and going to the door. I open the door and Rachel is still standing there. “You’re in big trouble, missy.”
She leans in, whispering as I pick her up, bringing her close to me, “She used her mom inside voice.”
I lean back, my eyes going wide. “Oh, dear.”
“Yes,” she says, nodding, “she talks like this.” She imitates Lauren talking with her teeth clenched.
“Oh, well, I better go get dressed and bring my behind downstairs.” I kiss her neck. “Go brush your teeth while I get dressed.” I put her down, watching her run into her bathroom.
I walk to my drawer, taking out my pink yoga capris with the matching bra. I head downstairs while Lauren gives the ten-minute warning.
I smile as I step into the kitchen. “Good morning, sunshine.” I stop at the coffee machine.
“Did you put the penis balloons in my car?” She turns to ask me, stuffing papers into Rachel’s backpack.
I bring the cup of coffee to my lips. “No.” I shake my head, hiding my smile while I take a sip. “I didn’t put them in your car.” I’m not lying either. I myself didn’t put them in her car.
“My whole car is filled with penis balloons.”
I put the cup down as Lauren yells bus up the stairs. Rachel comes hopping into the room, grabbing her backpack, with Gabe right behind her. He grabs his bag from Lauren, kisses her cheek, then comes over to me and does the same.
“Have a kick-ass day,” I tell him.
“I’m going to kick ass today,” Rachel says, walking out the door.
“Watch your mouth,” Lauren says and follows them outside to the bus.
I pick up my cup and watch them walk to the bus stop. The bus arrives right on time. I wave goodbye to them as Lauren returns.
“You okay to work today?” I ask her, knowing that somehow things between Austin and her aren’t quite what they seem to be.
“I’m more than okay. I’ll be fine now that we have all”—she waves her hand in the air—“that animosity out of the way.”
I laugh at her. “Is that what you’re calling it?” I hold the cup with both hands, taking another gulp.
She glares at me, opening her car door, one helium penis balloon floating up into the sky. We both watch the balloon float off. She opens the back door and the rest slowly float out. “Let them go, Lauren,” I say loudly as Mrs. Flounder comes outside, her hair still in curlers, with a scarf around her head. “It’s raining penises, Mrs. Flounder. They are raining down on us.”
I raise my hand to the sky. She claps her hands together. “I would like to be rained down on.” She winks at Lauren. “For a whole five minutes. That would be my dream.”