Page 60 of The Gentleness of Rage

“Roscoe!” I cried. “He’s got huge.”

Roscoe’s tail was going nine to the dozen, and Molly had plastered herself across my lap. I wasn’t going anywhere pinned down.

“How’re my babies?” I demanded as I fussed over them.

“Fat and spoiled,” Dorothy answered with a stern look at Aunt Elsie, who shrugged.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as Roscoe spotted Slate and headed towards him. Slate let panic cross his face as Roscoe leapt up, and he flinched back. Instead of biting, Roscoe started licking any part of Slate he could find.

Slate laughed and began fussing my exuberant puppy boy.

Well, they weren’t puppies, both Roscoe and Molly were full-grown German Shepherds and now three years old. They’d had to live at Aunt Elsie’s after Roscoe attacked Damien when he hit me. Damien had threatened to have him put down, but it was the one time I created merry hell. Instead, both pups had lived with Aunt Elsie for a year. But they were still my babies.

“Molly, up!” Dorothy said, and Molly offered her a derisive glare, but she got up. “Good girl,” Dorothy praised and flipped her a treat. Seeing Molly having something he didn’t, Roscoe came begging.

“So, you’ve finally found your lady balls?” Dorothy questioned as she perched on a stool.

Aunt Elsie giggled and sat next to her.

Dorothy turned to Slate. “Two cups of tea, with milk and sugar, please. Don’t make it too strong nor too weak.”

“How did you find me?” I asked as I stood up and brushed myself down. Damien had hated the fur, but it never bothered me. Not when you looked in Molly’s and Roscoe’s beautiful brown eyes.

“We didn’t. Slate found us. I must say, dearest, he is such an upgrade. Nice ass, good long thick legs, a trim waist and broad chest. Yes, most certainly an improvement. And look, Dorothy, he even has veins in his arms that pop. Jaelynn should find those lickable,” Aunt Elsie stated, eyeing Slate up.

A hint of red appeared on Slate’s cheeks as he turned around with two cups of tea.

“Cereal for breakfast? That’s not good enough for a hunk like you,” Aunt Elsie said, patting Slate’s arm and squeezing it. “Those muscles are real,” she hissed at me.

Slate glanced at me with a ‘what the fuck’ expression.

Dorothy looked amused as she sipped her tea. While Aunt Elsie went to my fridge, I compared the two most important women in my life. Dorothy, as always, was classy: nice, neat trousers, a silk blouse, and a string of pearls. Her hair was short but feminine and cut into a racy bob.

Aunt Elsie had jeans on, a gypsy flowing blouse cinched at the waist, her greying hair was down and reached halfway down her back. She wore several bangles and had clips to keep her hair from her face. Both women were in their early sixties and were still beautiful.

“I may be a lesbian, but I recognise a handsome man when I see one. Slate, I might not want to bang you, but I understand why Jaelynn would want to,” Aunt Elsie was saying.

Slate’s mouth dropped open, and he glanced at me wide-eyed.

“Aunt Elsie thinks it and says it,” I explained.

“Yes, forty-five years together, and Elsie still can’t filter. She was a nightmare in my early career years,” Dorothy interjected as she watched Slate and me.

“I was not… there it is, bacon and sausage. We taught our girl right,” Aunt Elsie said as she continued to yank eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes and butter from the fridge.

“You were a nightmare at events,” Dorothy retorted.

“Maybe I liked being spanked?” Aunt Elsie replied with a twinkle in her eye.

“I may have encouraged you because I loved spanking you,” Dorothy snapped back with humour in her voice.

“Those were the days. We were younger then and more energetic, young man. We had stamina and did not need boob jobs,” Aunt Elsie informed Slate, who choked on his coffee.

“God, did Elsie bitch after that operation,” Dorothy moaned.

“And you didn’t. ‘If you’re having perky tits again, then so am I. Oh, the pain! The indignity of having my breasts drawn all over’,” Aunt Elsie mimicked Dorothy’s tones. “Young man, you’d have thought she’d have had major surgery. But her boobs still look freaking brilliant six years on.”

“Thank you, I’m still pleased with them,” Dorothy said and eyed Aunt Elsie’s boobs.

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