XXXXXX
Readers: This is an unusual short one-off about flirting and sexual excitement. Hope you enjoy this small vignette. All comments are welcome -- even yawns and yucks -- so don't be shy.
And please don't forget to donate to nifty to keep this site free.
XXXXXX
THE BOYS OF SUNNY HILLS
That new guy, Hank, is looking over here, I know it. There's something about that glint in his eye. He's dirty, you can tell. And not the unwashed kind of dirty. The good kind. The nasty kind of dirty. Toast between my lips, I wink at him. Look at that bastard react, caught so off-guard he almost spills his coffee. He jerks his head to the side to see if his wife noticed my look. It's touching, really. She's clueless, just staring out the window, the forgotten English muffin dangling in her hand. She's absorbed by the birds. If a leaf falls, that will become the focus of her attention and the birds will be forgotten. But that Hank, he can't help but check to see if she caught him. How many times has he had to do that in their marriage? I guess old habits die hard.
His jaw wiggles. The way he sucks in those lips, it's obvious he's trying not to smile. Still looking at his wife, he reaches into his lap and fumbles for his johnson. Nice. Squeeze. Nicer still. No one else in this dining room is paying any attention to either one of us. They're too busy eating or watching tv or just... thinking. They don't get it. Life isn't for thinking. It's for living. A look back at Hank and I know, I'm going to live. Man oh man, am I going to live.
It's movie time at this never-ending party. Doris Day and Rock Hudson? Haven't these people heard of something called, oh, I don't know, the twenty-first century? Where's the skin? Why aren't we watching something that objectifies the human body, preferably of the male variety? But really, what difference does it make to me? All I care about is snagging that vacant spot on the sofa next to Hank. I'll watch anything if my leg can brush up against his. Virginal Doris is fine by me as long as the back of my hand can rest against the back of the hand belonging to that stud Hank.
Our flesh touches for the first time. His hand shakes a bit. Nerves? Or...? I imagine that hand shaking my jack hammer. Somebody in the movie says something funny I guess. Hank laughs and looks at me the way you do during comedies when something is so funny you want to see the joy you feel reflected in the eyes of the person next to you. His lips are wide. His teeth are spotless. But his eyes... those damn green eyes of his twinkle, and it's just a flash, but I catch them flick down and then return to meet mine. He checked me out. His eyes on mine again, they go wide for a second and then he lets his perfect upper teeth touch his bottom lip. Nice.
We both turn back to the movie. My guess is he's thinking about what's going on on-screen just as little as I am. If we're on the same page – and I think we are – like me, he's trying to figure out how we're going to make this happen...
I know it's been a few years since he was the high school wrestling champ I saw in that picture but I'm still looking forward to rolling around with him. You can tell he's still got some moves –
Whoa!
That sonofabitch, he just grabbed my ass! Now I'm the one who has to control his reactions.
Oh, this is going to be fun, and the devil knows I could use some fun.
Hank rubs his stocking foot against my ankle for two, three strokes then pulls it away. "Innocently" resting my hand on Hank's upper leg for support, I lean across him to tell his wife how beautiful she is today. She gives me the wordless, beaming smile she gives everyone and returns to the movie. I take my time sitting back up again, pressing the palm of my hand into Hank's femur for needed support, but letting my fingers do a little dance on his inner thigh. Maybe I'm only touching his pants and he can't feel a thing, but somehow it's erotic for me. And from the way Hank's breath just dropped an octave, I can tell he feels the same.
Rock is up on the screen pretending to be straight while Hank and I are sitting on the sofa watching him and pretending the same thing. I imagine if anyone paid attention to anyone else at this never-ending party, they'd see through our pretense pretty easily. But everyone who can be is in their own little world, so if they notice Hank reach behind me for the program guide, all they see is him reaching for the program guide. They don't register the way he turns his head at just the right moment or how he blows on my bare neck. Or the way my overgrown hair fluffs up at that teasing puff of air. Or how I sit up just a little bit straighter. They don't hear my heart beating dangerously fast.
The movie ends and Hank and his wife slowly rise. It's time to play musical chairs at this interminable party. Eat. Everybody get up, move around, settle down, watch a movie. Movie over, everybody get up, move around, settle down, enjoy some music. The inescapable party. All this effort to keep us from being bored. When all any of us wants is all what anybody ever wants. What everybody wants 24/7. Some good old fashioned fucking. And sucking. And lots of licking. And plenty of kissing. The kind of touching all over that never stops.
With his hand on his wife's lower back to guide her, Hank and his wife start to walk away, but before they get six feet, he turns back to me and mouths the single word "Tonight." I enjoy watching the former wrestler's ass in those loose pants wiggle off to the next room.
After I catch my breath and feel my heart settle back into a more healthy rhythm, I hoist myself up, give myself a few seconds to get steady on my feet, then position my walker in front of me and slowly shuffle off to my room. I need to get my teeth. It doesn't look like I'm going to be needing them tonight, but I would like to be able to return Hank's smile at some point today. No one wants to see a horny 85-year-old man's toothless grin. Not even another horny 85-year-old man. If Hank's wearing his dentures, the least I could do for him is put in mine.