Tuesday Tickle: Kev 'n Mo

The Bedlam–I mean, Badlam Hall residence assistants are having supper and talking about things that college kids talk about…

Paul raised his glass in salute. “There were a more than average number of cute ones.”

Dawn snorted. “Really? That’s what you were looking at? I saw a couple that we’re probably going to have to keep a closer eye on.”

“Oh my God, the parents of one of them, that guy with the reddish hair… I bet he’s going to be drunk all week, if he can find anyone to buy for him.”

“There’s a couple of girls I’m thinking the same thing about.” Dawn pulled a small coil-bound notebook out of her pocket. “I made notes.”

“Of course you did. Mom.”

“Fuck you.”

“Right now? I’m game. Table or floor?”

She scowled and flicked a forkful of peas at him. “Don’t be a sexist ass.”

Paul pointed at Dawn with his chicken leg. “Bradon has a MILF fetish. You’re going to need to put a bit of gray in your hair if you plan to keep him.”

Kev put his fork down and shot a glance around the table. “Guys, I’m trying to eat. Stop putting nasty pictures in my brain.”

Bradon held his hands up in a defensive motion. “Hey, there’s some good-looking moms running around here right now.”

“I’m not saying there isn’t. It’s the idea of your hairy butt hanging out in the open while I’m trying to finish my lasagna that’s making me queasy.”

The whole table laughed and Larissa poked Kev in the ribs. “Can’t have that, scrawny-man. Eat. I’ll make sure Bradon keeps his mouth shut.” She paused and then, with a wicked smile, asked, “So, you didn’t notice any cute dads running around? Would that be a FILF fantasy?”

Kev put his fork down and finished his coffee. “Okay, I’m done. There isn’t enough brain-bleach.”

“You wait until you’re a practicing psychologist, listening to everyone’s secret fantasies. You’ll be thanking us for the practice, getting a strong stomach.” She grabbed his arm and made him sit down again. “Eat. We’ll be good, promise.” She directed a glare around the table.”

Kev smiled and picked up a forkful of lasagna. “Yes, Mom.”


About the author: Kate Lowell

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