Thought, interrupted

The rest of the weekend passes in a haze. I think I manage to behave normally toward the girls—they don’t give me any indication otherwise, anyway. I keep wondering if what I heard was really the truth: do all these girls really want to have sex with me? My head says I should call Scarlett in, take her up to my bedroom, and unceremoniously fuck her brains out—but that’s my little head. My big one, spoilsport that it is, has to be the voice of caution, and so I do nothing. I’m also tempted to call all the girls over and tell them I overheard Bailey talking, but temptation aside, I know better.

I can’t quite bring myself to believe I heard the truth. I can’t imagine Bailey was lying, still less that the conversation was faked for my benefit, but—I’m forty years old; these girls are eighteen. Why would they want me?

My mind keeps spinning all week and through the next weekend. Lily can tell I’m preoccupied, and she asks several times if anything is wrong. I tell her no, which is the absolute truth; what could possibly be wrong with the idea of a half-dozen barely-legal hotties wanting to fuck you? I tell her, also truthfully, that I’m wrestling with a problem I haven’t figured out yet. I know she isn’t satisfied, but she never pushes the question.

*******

I hear Lily’s car start up; she pulls into the driveway, and the garage door closes. Jessica and her family are heading up to their cabin for a week—it seems a little odd to me that they’re going from Wednesday to Wednesday, but they know their schedule and I don’t—and they invited Lily along. She’s going to spend the night there because they’re leaving at 0-dark-hundred. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t be looking forward to being alone in the house for a week, but given my mental state, it’s probably a good thing. First things first. I need a drink.

On my way to the liquor cabinet, I hear the doorbell. I redirect my feet and open the door to find Scarlett standing there. I step back in surprise, and she comes in and closes the door behind her. “I’m sleeping over tonight,” she announces with a grin.

When I can kick my brain into gear, I say, “Lily’s gone for a week. She just left.”