From Chapter 4:
"She sat up on the sofa and took both of my hands in to hers. "No, Johnny. I have felt this way for some time now. I never thought a moment in time would ever allow for it to happen. It is happening now. I know you feel it too Johnny. Please don't fight it," she pleaded."
***************
"Roseanne, is this a tick?" I asked my wife while showing her something in my pubic hair about an inch above my penis.
"I think it is," she replied, "Here, I better pull it out."
"You'll leave its head in, you need a special tool to get them out," I informed her. "Doesn't Les have one that she uses when her dog gets a tick?"
"I'll call her and see, but I think I can just pull it out," she argued.
"No! See if she has a tool. I don't want Lyme's disease or whatever else happens if the head stays in," I firmly demanded.
Roseanne called Lesley. She said that she has a tick extractor and then said that we should come over right away and she would pull the tick out. Roseanne told her where the tick was located and said that she would pull it out.
As we were getting ready to go over to Lesley's, I had mentioned something to Roseanne about the way she was dressed. She had on baggy grey sweat pants and a man's flannel shirt that was two sizes too large for her. She looked like a slob.
"I don't give a shit, we are only going to my sister's," she barked back at me.
"Are you at least going to put your dentures in?" I requested.
"HELL NO! What for? If Lesley don't like the way I am dressed or look, tough shit! Accept me the way I am or don't accept me at all."
I rolled my eyes and looked forward to seeing Lesley, which was always refreshing.
We drove over to Lesley's house and as always, it was pleasant to see her. She greeted me with a small hug and a kiss on the cheek. (Her greeting when her husband or Roseanne was around.) She had on form fitting designer jeans and a proper fitting, women's flannel shirt, which when she hugged me I could feel that she was braless underneath. Her attire flattered her still twenty-year-old looking figure. She still looked fantastic even at sixty-one years of age.
She was bare footed and the sight of her perfectly pedicured toes was a real turn on. Her finger nails were perfectly manicured. Her toenails and fingernails were painted with a light rose colored polish, that seemed extremely alluring to me.
"Where did you say the tick is?" asked Lesley.
"On his dick," snarled Roseanne. "I don't know how the hell he got one there."
I speculated that it probably jumped off of our cat and it attached itself to me.
I corrected Roseanne's description of where the tick was. "It's not on my Little Man, it's in my pubic hair about an inch above it."
"Little Man?" Lesley laughed.
"That's what he calls his dick. He heard
Robin Williams
refer to it as his Little Man once, so Johnny has called it that ever since," answered Roseanne.
"You're silly," Lesley said to me while gently brushing her hand down my bicep.
"He's an Ass!" was Roseanne's reply.
Lesley led us upstairs to her bedroom. She got the extraction tool and poured alcohol on it to sterilize it. She instructed me to lay on the bed and pull my pants down just far enough to expose the tick. I was laying at the foot of the bed, legs bent at the knees with the lower part of my legs dangling over the edge of the bed.
"Roseanne, I think maybe you better shave his hair from around that tick. I'll get you a razor," suggested Lesley.