"Oh, hi there, dearie," a familiar voice speaks to me, out of nowhere, "Just who I was looking for."
I freeze in my steps and look over, seeing Scarlett's grandmother sitting on the couch in our living room. I didn't hear her enter, didn't pick up her scent on the air. She was just there as soon as I entered the room. Humans aren't usually that sneaky. Especially old ones like her.
"Hi," my voice cracks, "When did you get here?"
"Just a few minutes ago," she tells me, and pats the couch next to her, "Come sit with me. I wanted to check in on you."
I step over and join her, still taken aback with her oddly stealthy entry into our house. I'm calmed a little by an ear rub, but one doesn't just sneak into a dog's house like that. Wolf.
"How did you get in...?" I ask, remembering that I'd let her in before.
"Well that's quite simple, actually," she leans in, as if to share some secret, "I remembered my key."
"Oh, well that makes sense," I admit.
"Are Scarlett and Flint around?" she asks me, while fiddling through her purse for something.
"No, they're both out. Just me and Sophie, and I'm sure she's asleep somewhere," I say.
"Oh, of course," she waves a hand, "They would be, wouldn't they?"
"Let's take a look at that arm, shall we?" she continues.
"Oh, okay," I roll up my sleeve, a little unsure on where she assumes Scarlett and Flint would be.
She places a pair of spectacles on her face and proceeds to examine the fading bruise on my arm. I'm honestly not sure what she's looking for.
"You've been using the cream?" she asks.
"Sometimes, when I remember," I reply. Honestly, I usually forget. I'm not completely sure it does anything.
"Well keep applying it every day, and you should be right as rain," she assures me.
She then proceeds to lean forward, reach under the couch, and pull out the jar itself out. She opens it to examine its contents before sealing it and handing it to me.
"How did you know..." I take the jar, perplexed that she guessed exactly where it was.
"Wasn't born yesterday, you know," she chuckles at pats my hand, "You've still got plenty enough. Only thing you need to worry about is finding a better hiding place!"
"Right. I will then," I respond as I idly stash the jar behind some pillows, always a little caught off guard with her, "Did you really come all this way just to check on my arm?"
"Clever one, you," she pokes the tip of my nose, "I actually have a little favor to ask of you. And it may sound a little funny."
She turns in her seat to face me better, "You know, I'm good with remedies and little thises and thats. Most of the ingredients are things I can just grow in my garden, or find in the woods. But sometimes they're a little hard to come by, and awkward too, especially at my age," she explains.
I raise my eyebrows, "What do you need?"
"Well, not to but too blunt a point on it, but I need the seed of a human male," she says, "I was hoping you could help me procure it."
My eyes turn to dinner plates, "I'm sorry?"
"Semen, Acorn. From a human male," she establishes that I did not mishear, "I understand you have one living with you, you know."
"Why," my voice cracks again, "Why are you asking me and not Flint?!"
"Heavens, I can't just go asking my granddaughter's boyfriend for something like that!" she says, "Imagine how embarrassing! No, I think it's best if Scarlett and Flint are left out of this particular request. But if someone could act a little more, hm, clandestine about it, I think we could all avoid that dreadfully awkward situation."
"What makes you think I can do that for you?!" my eyes stay widened.
She just gives me a blank stare back, "Once again, dearie, wasn't born yesterday."
Is it that obvious what's going on in our house?
"Now," she reaches into her purse and pulls out a small bottle, "It doesn't have to be a lot, or kept perfectly fresh, but if you could just acquire it through some means and place it in this, I'll just pick it up next time I come by. I know it seems like a lot to ask, but I'm a woman of many talents. You help me with this, and I think I can figure a way to help you. I know how much you think of my granddaughter."
She places the bottle in my hand, having apparently decided that I'd agreed to this. With that, she stands, and I with her.
"I've got to be going dearie, I wish I could stay longer," she pats my head, "Best keep this one between us, as well, with you acquiring my ingredient. I'll see you soon."
She walks by me, and I'm left staring at the small bottle she handed me, wondering how I got volunteered into this. I hear the soft patter of feet a few moments later, and my hand quickly curls around the bottle. I look up to see Sophie walking it, opening her mouth in a wide yawn.
"Were you talking to someone?" she asks.
I look back around the room, and granny is nowhere to be found. I didn't even hear the door open. She left as eerily and silently as she arrived. If it wasn't for the bottle in my hand, I might think I imagined it.
"Um," I pause and consider it, "No, just thinking aloud."
"Never a good sign to talk to yourself. Hope you didn't get the sense fucked out of you," she walks up beside me and unexpectedly pulls a hand back to slap me on the ass, "How's the boy pussy holding up?"
"Ow! Hey!" it's not really hard enough to hurt, it just took me by surprise.
I give her a quick glare, "I'm fine."
"I'd give you a hard time about not taking the whole thing, but it did look like you tried. Can't fault a boy for having too tight of a hole," she puts an arm over my shoulder and leans on me, "Did she even start hitting your spot?"
"Spot?" I ask.
"I guess not!" she proclaims with a laugh.
"What are you talking about?" I turn to face her, finding myself nearly nose to nose, with her still leaning on me and all.
"You really don't know, do you?" she giggles, "Acorn, boys have a little spot that you can only reach from inside."
She holds up two fingers and curls them in pressing motion, "You just have to know where to press. Supposed to feel real good, makes cute boys like yourself love to get fucked. Can even get you off. Fuck the cum right out of you."
I narrow my eyes in suspicion, "You're making this up."
"Acorn," she takes me by the shoulders, "I would never lie about the mechanics of shoving stuff up your ass. I take that very seriously."
"I'm not really sure how to respond to that," I say, because it's the plain truth.
"I could show you, you know," she says with a devious sort of smile that I'm pretty sure she borrowed from Scarlett.
"What do you mean?" I pull my face back a little.
"You know exactly what I mean," she says.
"If you could do that with your fingers, how come I didn't feel anything like that when Scarlett was doing it?" I ask.
Sophie shrugs, "I guess she wasn't trying to, just wanted to loosen you up. She'd have no problem finding it, though. Neither will I."
I sink back a little, "Um, I don't know..."
"Come ooonnn..." she ruffles my hair.
"'Come on' isn't a reason for why you should shove your fingers up my ass," I cross my arms.
"Don't be so dramatic about it, it's just to prove a point," she says, "Aren't you at least a little curious?"
"I mean... wouldn't Scarlett and Flint be mad at us, um, doing things, without permission?" I point out.
"That's silly. What Scarlett wants is for you to be a good boy and take that strapon, so if this helps you get used to it and enjoy it, that's all for the better. So really, I think Scarlett would support it if she were here," she argues.
"I'm not really sure..."
"Come on, you're a big strong wolf, the captain of the forest or something," she shakes my shoulders, "Take your destiny in your own hands, and drop your pants so I can finger you."
"Well I..."
"Excellent, it's settled, then," she announces and reaches forward to unfasten my pants.
I don't really find it in me to stop her as she opens my pants and drops them to the floor. The little half giggle at my penis is unnecessary, but I don't really do anything to object to that, either. She proceeds to grab me by the hips and roughly spin me around, nearly causing me to lose balance.
"Not gonna lie, you have a nice ass Acorn," she says giving it another light slap, "A little jealous, really."
I jump a little, "Um... thank you."
"That's why we need to get your comfort level sorted, because it's a crime for no one to be fucking it," she says very matter of factly, "Now come on, bend over. Here, on the chair."
Before I'm given any chance to reply to that, she hurries me forward and pushes on my upper back. I stumble a little, but my hands catch the arm of the easy chair in front of me. Bent over, I feel a little exposed, and not nearly as comfortable with that feeling as I am around Scarlett.