Old Man Thomas

"Triss?" I hear a nearby voice question.

I opened my eyes and look around. I find an elderly man walking up to me from the opposite side of where I'm sitting. Squinting my eyes, I realize its Thomas Gardner. He is an old man in his 60s, our neighbor and has been like a grandpa to me since moving here. He and my Pops have become friends for a long while now, since five years ago. That friendship deepened when Thomas introduced Pops to his new hobby. I still don't know what it is, but as long as it made Pops happy, I'm happy.

Waving at him, I greeted him with an awkward smile and said "Hey Planter!" Thomas smiles in return, liking that I used his nickname. A name he would call himself from time to time. Proclaiming himself the man who knows how to plant the seeds. He can be somewhat eccentric and delightful. Especially when he started telling tall tales of his sex life after I turned 18. Now that I think about it, he was always vague about describing the women he fucks. He would get this twinkle in his eyes and large smile when I ask him about the details, and would glance at my dad, as if he knows a little dirty secret.

Mr. Gardner sits down next to me. "Nice seeing you keeping to your daily run Triss." He smiles in a strange way. Though I don't pay much attention to it.

Relaxing, I reply, "Of course! Gotta keep this figure of mine!" I say as I stretch my arms up and legs out, arching my back as I do so, showing off the curves.

"I can see that." I then feel Thomas place a hand over my right leg, rubbing it slowly. I stop my stretching and turn my head to reply, but...