I was meeting close friends John and Ryan at the club. They were bringing Mark, a friend of John's from university who'd recently moved to the city. That might sound like they were trying to hook us up but I'd never needed their help. They knew I'd end the evening with him anyway, as long as he was reasonably good-looking.
He was better, but much too controlled for my tastes. The green-hazel eyes were calm and probing, all at the same time, the mouth with its thin upper lip and full lower lip didn't get a lot of exercise as if he thought through every thing before he spoke, not a single blond strand out of place.
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This story all took place on what was a very sad week for me. Joanne had been a good friend of mine for years, we had never been together as a couple, we had kissed and fooled around a bit in various different situations but we had never gone as far as to call ourselves a couple (much to my disappointment).
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The hour was late and we had been drinking fairly heavily throughout the evening. I had been doing shooters of tequila and the girls had been drinking screwdrivers. We were all getting pretty plastered and we were a bit loose in our conversation. Ellen, our neighbor, had just regaled us with a tale of a sexual escapade she had experienced this last week.
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***My first story. Comments are appreciated to help improve writings. Thanks!!***
I woke up one morning and signed on to AOL as I always do to check my email. The familiar voice saying "You've Got Mail" didn't surprise me; I always had mail. Almost all of it was junk but the last message caught my eye; It was a message from a website I had an account in.
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Monday
Harold stood at the door and looked around. On the flipchart at the front of the room someone had written 'Management Skills for the IT Environment,' so he was in the right place. There were probably twenty other people milling about the room or already seated at one of the tables, some were talking and others just staring into space. Everybody looked so young. Harold felt out of place. He took an empty seat at a table near the back and joined those staring into space.
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Sometimes you just have to hit bottom before you start to rise again, and apparently I'd hit bottom a while back. Through a sequence of stupid decisions and choices, some bad luck with the economy, some tragedy and heartbreak, I've found myself alone for the first time since going off to college. Was busted broke but found a new job that actually pays pretty well, actually got pretty healthy and more physically fit than since those college days, and had even managed to buy a tiny house.
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After many years I finally got that well deserved promotion. I had made some very simple plans of taking my lovely woman along for the celebration. I had already made reservations to the most expensive and classy restaurant in town. We made ourselves ready and were on our way out the door. Suddenly we both stopped as we looked longingly at one another. The restaurant, being high-class, required formal attire of their guests.
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She had been excited about it for a week. They really weren't sure how Thursday had gotten decreed "kink" night but it was a tradition now. For a couple of months now, her husband had been asking, well, begging for her ass. She was tentative and they had started slowly. A week ago, he had finally pressed his cock into her. He was not overly long but damn, he was wide. He had gotten it in, but not very deep or for very long. She was proud of herself. She would get better. Tonight though, it was her turn.
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Few things are as beautiful as the sight of you lying there on the bed, all naked, waiting for me . . . it is so exciting. I carress your body while you let your hand run up and down my hard penis, preparing it for your wet mound. . . . I give you a warm kiss, and let my erection touch your thigh . . . will you open your thighs for me, allow me in? I know you will, I think you want it as much as I do. Yes. . . .
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Grandpa thought he was in heaven! The 55 and older community was actually about 65 and older, and most of them were women, so when I visited him, he'd light up and was proud to show me off.
He was still a spry 82, went out for a few beers every afternoon at the local bar, which was really a package store with a bar in the back room, complete with old time bar maids, songs from the Forties, and a million old war stories.
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