Chapter 12

Back in his room, Richie stared at his reflection in the mirror.

Not too bad for an old man. Shit! When did I get this old? I’m gonna be fifty fucking one tomorrow!!!


Sighing, he headed for the shower, stripping his shirt and scratching his chest. Inside the majestic in suite bathroom, done in grey marble and gold accents, he started the shower and undid his shorts. Removing his garments, climbing into the shower he let multiple massaging jets do their magic. His mind went back to the events of the last night.

The show was great. As great as only the show in your own back yard could get! Up until that damn encore. Jonny just had to show off his non existent dancing skills! Stupid man should just stick to what he does best- shake his ass and flirt with the girls. Speaking of the girls… Jonny’s leg injury did have the unexpected benefit: Melody! What was it about that girl that got to me? Cute little spitfire! Wouldn’t take any crap from us! Didn’t act like a typical fan, even though she did admit that she was a fan! I wonder how old she is… Shit! I hope she is not married or otherwise taken! Wait, I don’t remember seeing an engagement ring or a wedding ring on her finger. Come to think of it, I don’t remember seeing any rings on her fingers… Maybe it’s a ‘nurse’ thing. Maybe they are not allowed to wear any jewelry on their hands. And speaking of those hands… Maaaaann, they were so soft when she touched my wrist and wiped my face when I nearly passed out after seeing Jonny getting stuck with a needle. And what those hands were doing to me in the dream….


Thinking of the dream brought a certain part of his anatomy to a very awake state. With a sigh, he reached for the shower gel and the washcloth. Working up the lather, he soaped up his body paying the extra attention to his aching member. Dropping the wash cloth, he grabbed his cock and slid his soapy hand from root to tip. Moaning, he closed his eyes as his hand glided along his massive member. All he could think of was Melody, her smile, and her sparkling green eyes. Shaking his head, he concentrated on imaging Melody’s small hand wrapped around his rock hard cock, slowly sliding along its length, gently squeezing its generous girth. Keeping his eyes closed he lost himself in memories of his dream. His hands became her hands, slippery from the soap, only sped up his movements, as the waves of pleasure raced through his body culminating in his groin. As the building pressure surged, he threw his head back and grunted as his body released his seed and tension. Totally spent from his erotic daydream he leaned his head on the wall of the shower, reaching to turn the cold water tap on fuller he took several deep breaths as the now cold water cooled his overly warm body

Shit! I am way too old to be jerking off in the shower like a horny teenager…. I NEED to find me a woman!


Richie quickly finished his shower and wrapped a soft towel around his waist. Walking over to the vanity, he reached for his travel case and his shaving essentials.


Melody pulled her CRV to the ornate metal gate guarding the estate. She found the buzzer and pressed it. A small security camera came to life and zoomed in on Melody. Smiling she waved at the camera. The gate slowly opened, allowing Melody to follow the long driveway towards a majestic looking French Colonial estate. She parked her car on the side, grabbed her purse and a brown bag with the bottle of oil for Jon, and took a deep breath and headed towards the door. The door opened before she even reached it and smiling Dorothea stood in the doorway.

“Hi Melody, come on in!” she said, then took one look at Mel’s shirt and broke down in a fit of laughter. “Nice shirt! Lets hope it works!” she grinned at her.

Melody smiled and nodded “Every little bit should help.”

“You’ re right, especially with a stubborn ass like Jon!” the older woman nodded. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked “I just made a fresh pot for Jonny”

“Sure, thank you.”

Dorothea motioned for her to follow, and led her into a large sunny kitchen done up in soft honey maple, granite and stainless steel. She waved for Melody to sit down and sat a mug in front of her.
“How do you take your poison Mel?”

“Oh, just with sugar and milk.”

Dorothea grinned and fixed her coffee.

“Honey!” came a bellow from a distance “Where is my coffee? And who was it at the door?”

Dorothea shook her head and smiled at Melody “Your patient is awake and needy!”

“How is he? Is he in a lot of pain?” she asked slipping effortlessly into a professional mode.

“He claims he is fine. But he is driving us all up the wall, and off the deep end! I just might have to slip that Vicodan into his dinner tonight.”

“He hasn’t taken his meds?”

“He took the other one, but refuses to take the narcotic pain killer….”

Melody shook her head and sipped her coffee.

“Baaaaabbbyyyyyy!!!!! Coffeeeeeeeeee!!!! I’m dying here!” came from the distance.

“See what I’ve been dealing with all day?” sighed Dorothea getting up and grabbing a coffee mug.

Mel also got up “Maybe I should’ve brought a syringe loaded with some tranquilizer!” she grinned at Dorothea.

“That would be great! How strong do they make it? And how many can you get?”

“I don’t know” laughed Melody “We can check on line. I bet they have something in the wild game supplies! Something for the African Safari Hunt!”

“Yeah, I’ll take three rounds of elephant strength tranquilizer and one rifle please!” laughed Dorothea.

“You think one shot won’t be enough?” grinned Mel.

“You’re forgetting about the other two Stooges!” said Dorothea leading Mel into a large family room.

Melody stepped in and looked around. The room was warm and airy, done in soft beige and moss green tones and furnished with what looked to be soft and comfy brown leather sofas and arm chairs. Jon was sitting on one of those sofas. His left leg was elevated onto a coffee table, supported with a pillow, with a pair of crutches was laying on the floor next to him. Melody took a deep breath and approached him.

“Hello Jon! Remember me?”

He nodded in greeting, then took one look at Mel’s shirt, smirked and using his hands, moved his injured leg and lied down on his sofa.

Melody stopped and glanced at Dorothea, puzzled.

Dorothea grinned and pointed to the front of Mel’s shirt. There in large blue font over pink was written: “The person wearing this shirt is a Registered Nurse. Now lie down and do everything the nice nurse tells you to do!”

“Where did you get that shirt? And most importantly, do they make it with ‘wife’ instead of ‘nurse’?”

“I got it from a shop on Boardwalk in Atlantic City. And I’m sure they can make it with anything you want!”

“Good. I need two! One with ‘wife’ and the other one with ‘mom’!”