Free Hard Tail by JL Merrow Page B

occurred to me I was alone here. No one to care if I walked around naked; no one to hiss what if the neighbours look through the window at me. I blew a kiss at my hazy reflection in Jay’s tiny bathroom mirror; already the clear patch I’d wiped was misting over again. After slinging the towel over the side of the bath, I sauntered downstairs, my cock bouncing lightly at every step. Damn, it felt good to be free.
    Until, of course, the front door opened when I was halfway down the stairs and Olivia stepped into the house, her eyes exactly level with my tackle.
    I did what any red-blooded male would do at this point, which was to cover myself up with both hands and splutter at her incoherently.
    Olivia’s perfect mask didn’t crack. Either she had the world’s best poker face or there was a really good staff discount on Botox at that salon of hers. “Tim,” she said without lifting her eyes from my hastily hidden crotch. “Jay asked me to pick up a few things for him.”
    “Right,” I said, a bit more croakily than I’d intended. I cleared my throat. “Do come in. I’ll just, er, go and…” My hands made vague going-upstairs-with-a-suggestion-of-putting-some-clothes-on gestures, realised they’d abandoned my rapidly shrivelling manhood and scrambled back to bolt that stable door.
    “I’ll be in the lounge,” she said glacially and swept away.
    I bolted upstairs and grabbed the first pair of trousers I could find. Then I took them off again because they were Jay’s and, as predicted, looked ridiculous on me. By the time I’d made myself decent and got downstairs again, Olivia’s perfectly pedicured foot was tapping on the hallway carpet. “Coast’s clear,” I said with a nervous smile. “No more naked men up there.”
    She raised a pencilled-on eyebrow. “Should I have expected some?”
    “Er, no. Definitely, no,” I told her, my face about to spontaneously combust.
    She swept past me and disappeared into Jay’s bedroom. I tried to remember if I’d left my dirty underwear on the floor and came to the depressing conclusion that yes, I probably had.
    There was the distant sound of drawers opening and closing; then Olivia’s precise footsteps came back down the stairs.
    “Get what you were after?” I asked to justify hovering by the door.
    “Yes, thank you.” She didn’t enlighten me as to what it might have been. Small enough to fit into her handbag, whatever it was. Then again, her presumably fashionable handbag was so large she could have comfortably fit the bed in there. “You know,” Olivia said thoughtfully as she turned to go, “we have a lot of male clients at the salon. Have you ever considered a little personal grooming? We do a good deal on male waxing.”
    I shuddered. “No, thanks.”
    “Or if you’re nervous about pain, you could consider getting your intimate hair dyed. It’d cover up the grey beautifully. It was nice seeing you, Tim.”
    She swept out again, leaving me standing there, mortified. I had grey pubes? She’d seen my grey pubes?
    I mentally added tweezers to the shopping list.
    And some carpet slippers and a walking stick. They’d go nicely with the pension book I was obviously due for any day now.
    I sighed and rummaged in the fridge for a ready meal.
     
     
    I went to visit Jay after I’d eaten, hoping I’d left enough time for Olivia to be in and out before I got there—I wasn’t looking forward to seeing her again in a hurry, in case she started going on about my personal grooming issues in front of my brother. He’d never let me hear the last of it.
    The private hospital, it turned out, was only a hop, skip and a jump away from Southampton General. Not, of course, that most of those admitted were up to any of that sort of thing. I supposed Jay might have managed a hop, but skipping or jumping was definitely out. The car park here was free, at least, and the reception was a lot nicer than the NHS one—more like a conference centre than a hospital,