The days to that moment are ticking down. I know we both feel it. The pressure. Some nerves. The anxiety. And the excitement.
I slip into my shorts, a shirt, and my sneakers and then sit on the edge of the bed. I’m about to take out my phone when Keno stands in front of me. My eyes are right at crotch level. Raising a brow, I look up into his face to find he’s grinning.
“This is a good position to start, no?”
“You want to stay in and do this?” I tease.
He hesitates. I know he’s as horny as I am. It’s been a really long time since I’ve touched anyone else and gotten off. I also know it’s been just as long for Keno.
Which leads to more nerves because it might be over embarrassingly fast that first time or two.
Keno sighs and holds out his hand. “Come on, Etna. An hour. You can hold out for an hour, can’t you?”
Honestly, I thought I had him there. Taking his hand, I let him pull me to my feet.
“Do you really not want to go out?” he asks and then leans in to give me a quick peck on my lips. “If you really don’t want to, we can stay in.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine. I don’t know why I’m dragging my feet. Let’s go. I can survive an hour, as you said.”
He smiles. “It’ll be fun. Promise.”
The fun he promised turns out to be something none of us could have expected. We stand on the side and look out among the dozens of tables of older people playing checkers and board games. There are tiki poles lining the area and a big fire pit surrounded by food.
“I think you read the ad wrong,” Hilt says.
“Can I help you?” an older man asks as he comes closer.
“Uh… I think I misunderstood the flyer,” Horny admits. “I’m not sure we reach the age threshold.”
The man chuckles. “You’re welcome to join us. It’s $10 if you’d like to eat, but otherwise, the games with good company are free.”
Horny looks at us with an apology. Julian shrugs. “We’re here. Let’s go find some adoptive grandparents to take us in.”
Keno and I pay our combined $20 and grab a plate of food before we look for two seats together at a table with three older women. He asks if we can join them and they gesture enthusiastically to the seat.
“I’m Marge,” one says. “This is Lucy and Beth.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say. “Thanks for letting us join in.”
“Our pleasure,” Lucy flirts, waggling her eyebrows at us.
“And who are you strapping young men?” Marge asks.
“Keno. This is Etna.”
“Are you from around here?” Lucy asks. “I have a granddaughter about your age.”
Keno bows his head, taking a bite of food so he doesn’t have to answer.
“We’re visiting.”
“That’s too bad. You’ll make lovely babies one day,” Lucy muses, sighing wistfully. “I have lovely babies. And lovely grandbabies.”
“Lucy, dear. Hush,” Marge chides and turns back to us. “What brings you to Tampa?”
“Hockey,” Keno answers.
“Ohhh,” all three women respond. I laugh.
