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They'd been making out nonstop for five straight minutes, Simon flat on his back on the front lawn until they both felt like their genitals might explode when Patty said with a grimace;
"You smell terrible music boyfriend."
He laughed into her mouth. First day back from jail, Danny drove him straight to Patty's house, knew there was a fat chance in hell he'd want to go to their parents first. Patty had bolted out the door, tackled him to the ground and now here they were. Danny had thankfully driven off, not interested in seeing his brother getting dry humped on a suburban lawn.
"You don't like my stink?" he asked.
"Not today."
She didn't try to tiptoe around the subject to try to spare his feelings. Didn't know how. Brutally honest. It was refreshing. No bullshit.
"I'm gonna run you a bath."
Fuck that sounded like bliss. In prison, he avoided the showers because of freaks and perverts and did the ol' wet wipes on the pits and bits. Now a proper hot bath.
"Tits," he said. She immediately grabbed his hand, yanking it over her tit. He groped obediently. She knew exactly what she wanted.
She put a rainbow bath bomb that smelled like bubblegum in the hot water and two types of bubble bath that smelled like cherry and of course their favourite watermelon. He honestly felt a bit ill from all the sweet fake scents but appreciated the sentiment. No one had ever run him a hot bubble bath before.
Getting out of his clothes, she stared at him like he was a piece of meat she wanted to devour whole.
"You're a horny maniac," he laughed, and she looked a bit uncertain at first before he reassured her he was only half kidding. Climbed into the bath and she sat on the edge.
"Ahhh gross!" she exclaimed, giggling. "Look at the water!"
All his grime had turned it a murky colour. He felt guilty for a moment. What if he left a fucking...dirt ring around the tub?
"You're okay Johnny Q," she told him, piling dirt flecked foamy bubbles onto his chest. He blew and sent them flying into her face. Laughter and then some smacked right back into his. That was the joy of her. He could finally drop his big, tough mean mask. Just untense, have fun.
From the look in her eyes, she was absolutely raring to go. The old shit stirrer in him couldn't help but by an insufferable clit tease. Saw her hand creeping over the edge of the bath. Smiling innocently up at her, he turned around in the water onto his side and her hand banged against his hip instead.
"Gotta name for your riot girl band yet?" he asked, and she huffed with frustration.
"I dunno. You know how you have a dog muzzle in your room but you don't have a dog? Do you wear it?"
"I sure do."
Her eyes lit up like all her Christmases had come early. Her hand reached for him again and with another smile he turned around on his back.
"So how's the family, Patty Cake? Mom and Dad and Kev?"
"I dunno!" she said, looking increasingly more frustrated. Reached for a third time, and he casually put his hand between his legs, shielding the way.
"Simon are you fucking with me?" she finally asked, voice wrought with suspicion. He burst out laughing.
"Yeah."
She threw a handful of bubbles at him.
"I hate you!" she exclaimed. He gasped in mock outrage.
"Just kidding, just kidding!" she immediately added, looking concerned that he might believe her. "I don't hate you. You're my favourite person ever."
No one had ever called Simon their favourite person before.
"You're my favourite too."
She beamed.
"Can we jerk each other off now please?"
Patty used to call it the very clinical, unsexy term, masturbating until Simon told her to say jerk off instead before his dick shriveled up.
"Well since you asked so nicely," he replied. She practically dove her hand into the water for his dick like a rocket launcher. Grabbed his hand and pulled it, bathwater, bubbles and all between her legs.
"Easy! Don't rip it off, it ain't going nowhere!"