Spring is in the Air!

Hilary came away from consulting her clinic nurse more than slightly deflated. The good news was that Hilary, aka Hilaria, had reduced her morbid obesity, well done. The bad news was that she now needed a walking stick, as she dodged the knee reconstruction with the orthopedic surgeon.

Hilaria accentuated the positives, and adopted some new exercises, largely seated. Her flexible routine now included lifting weights, while seated in a chair. She was resolved to tone up her flabby tuck shop arms, sagging like bat wings. Appealing, not.

Over there, in her old hometown family home, it was still winter. Spring was approaching, her television addict, retired old Ben was still whinging. It was that sensitive time of the football season when the thinking male realized his team had no hope making the finals or playoffs. The whole season of dud expectations right down the drain. All perfectly normal for the worst football team in the central Big City league.

Hilaria was solution focused, so she decided to do some new things, choosing something realistic. Now she was seventy, she needed another creative hobby, besides being a queen of crafting. She could write. She did not need to be particularly mobile to write prize winning literature. But which genre?

Hilaria told herself to be innovative, and created her own genre. Senior sexy romance novels. Or at least one novel. She would have to do some research. Hilaria eyed off Ben, having another codger kip while his team's usual injuries and excuses mounted. Hilaria's available material for senior sex research was not exactly motivated to participate in hours of torrid passion. A sloth would have a better love life than Ben any day. But still, sloths were survivors.

Living in the 21st Century, feeling the frisk of approaching Spring, Hilaria googled on her laptop, "How to rekindle passion in your marriage." Sage page one advice provided her with some good ideas, quite doable. While old Ben was snoring, she ordered some online Viagra, and browsed to update her wardrobe of old tracksuits, mostly covered with white fur. This was a consequence of rehoming her cute, fluffy pet, Queenie.

Queenie just then went slinking past to the bedroom one, where the electric blanket was firing up, nice and cosy. Queenie, despite being so cute, was a haughty, non-cuddlesome addition to what she considered to be her personal palace. She tolerated Hilaria as a convenient source of delicious food and treats. Hilaria persisted with trying to domesticate her. Vacuuming pet hair was good upper body exercise, she decided.

The next morning, Hilaria took off in her flash red Ferrari, heading to the big shopping center in Hometown. Ben was sullen and morose, Queenie was still on the bed. Her new hobby was shredding the drapes on a serial basis, channeling her inner claw.

The shopping center was not far away, only a short drive. Hilaria nearly flattened some teens wandering there, who yelled and made rude hand gestures. "Ten points a pedestrian!" Hilaria giggled, roaring into a car space. She did not realize one future criminal followed her, waiting to swipe her large black shoulder bag and her car keys. It was the car of male fantasies.

Hilaria picked up her script for Viagra at the pharmacy, and sauntered off to choose a fancy pants tracksuit, plus some risque underwear, all in black lace. Wikihow had told her to tempt her husband, and put some pep in his pup. This was all for a noble cause, research for her novel, in the brand new genre. Spring was in the air, she noted a bunch of daffodils at the florist.

Hilaria was nearly ready to return home. She needed some bean sprouts for a vegan soup recipe she would cook up for lunch. Hilaria had her own plans, research was happening today. She was leaving the supermarket, womaning up with her walking stick, when the future criminal underage teen ran up and grabbed her shoulder bag.

Hilaria did not blink. She swung her walking stick, and smashed the perp in his face, rearranging his dental work. Those exercises were good for upper body strength. The future criminal went down, yelling, "Unlawful assault! I'll sue, old cow!" The supermarket's rather chubby checkout chick raced over and planted her foot in his groin, declaring, "I know him. I am your witness, he's a nuisance. Call the police! Now you've got something to whinge about!

The future young criminal groaned, clutching his lack of genitals, harassing little old disabled women in the shops. Hilaria phoned the cops, who were quickly on the scene. Subdued, the constabulary, one of them a policewoman, shuffled him off. The policewoman said, "I don't care how you feel when you're arrested." Hilaria asked, "Is he heading to junior criminal penitentiary?" "No," said the policewoman, "He'll be bailed tomorrow at 9am. His father doesn't understand him."

"Oh, never mind," Hilaria commented, as she drove off home to create bean sprout soup. Her walking stick and her made a good team. Old Ben sat down for his vegan soup, rather reluctantly. "Any chippies?" he asked, hopefully. "NO CHIPPIES!" Hilaria told him. "You can donate to GoFundMe, for the Save the Spuds Foundation." Ben did not realize that his bowl of lovely soup was laced with crushed Viagra. After lunch was going to be epic.

Hilaria's first chapter was going to be titled, Love in the Afternoon. It was based on research into, "Can afternoon delights be done right?" This was her new hobby. Could Ben still turn her on? Hilaria sat down crafting, ignoring the blaring football replay on television.

Ben soon started having an experience he had thought was long gone. He glanced over at his ageing bride, who had scrubbed up into some new clothes. Hilaria wondered if black lacy knickers would inspire him. She did not miss a stitch. "Fancy a lie down in bed?" Old Ben asked. Hilaria told herself this was all research. Pep in pup had been achieved.

Taking her by the hand, Old Ben arose, as the newly loving couple sauntered off to bedroom one. A flickering scented candle added to their loving ambience. Hilaria's sagging heart had long been won. She removed Queenie from her latest pile of cat hair, and placed her on the dresser. Queenie hissed and yowled, sulking.

Queenie could not believe this scene unfolding in front of her catty eyes. She was not the romantic type, definitely not. In her glaring opinion, her food provider was behaving like an adolescent. It was Queenie's electric blanket, after all. Pet and owner would have to redefine their mutual understanding.

Queenie could not resist. At that passionate moment, when naked old Ben was about to consummate his sudden lusts, Queenie sprang from the dresser. She landed right on Ben's nude and rude butt, and rabidly shredded his skin.

Swearing, old Ben rolled off the bed, shrieking. He crash landed, right on his discarded underwear. Unfortunately, he had damaged his back, and could not arise. Hilaria confronted this rom com moment, but could not lift up Ben. Dressing quickly, she summoned the ambulance service. Queenie looked more malevolent than ever before, but cute with it, if you loved shredding machines.

The paramedics tried to keep straight faces, arriving to assess Old Ben's vital signs. He was carted off on a gurney, sirens ablaze. Love in the afternoon had disappeared into the emergency room at Hometown General Hospital, then into a spinal unit.

Hilaria felt obligated to follow the ambulance in the red Ferrari. She had filled two bowls of delicious cat food for her very naughty feline. Queenie considered that she was a reincarnated queen of Egypt, and would remain the queen of this particular palace.

Hilaria thought the nurses were a bit casual, as they discreetly covered the groaning Ben's fire in his belly. "That Viagra must be good stuff," one nurse said. The other nurse was smirking, as she handed Hilaria a fact sheet, "Caring for Spinal Injuries." Hilaria and old Ben were soon the gossip of every nurses' station. An orderly wandered past, eyeing off Hilaria, singing "Desperado" in a rather cheeky manner.

Hilaria's afternoon delight had not gone at all right. She noticed the very grim look on Ben's spinal specialist. Scans were planned, to determine if old Ben needed spinal surgery. His shrieks were so loud, the nurses returned and sedated him, so everyone could settle for the evening. "This will make him more constipated, " one nurse told his loving wife. '

Meanwhile, back in the old family home, Queenie had the whole bed and the electric blanket to herself. Not a romantic soul, fur friend Queenie. In her estimation, as she shredded Hilaria's new black lacy bra, her human must devote her days to feeding her feline more delicious food, and to vacuuming pet hair in the palace. Queenie took care of herself above all others.

A cool change had swept over Hometown. Queenie purred very loudly, as she snuggled into the comfy bed in bedroom one, listening to the storms. Ben had stuffed his back, job done. For Hilaria and Ben, Spring and senior seventies sex were not in the air!