Loading...I’m pretty much a creature of habit. At my age, you tend to be. I mean sixty is not ancient, but for sure I am no callow youth any more. Matter of fact, I only have one enemy: the fucking mirror! I pass a window on the street and see that reflection staring back at me? Don’t know him! Inside I am still that thirty something marathon runner, dad and husband.
My wife of thirty four years died two years ago. I still have my business, the kids visit from time to time or I go see them. I run, just not so fast anymore. Nights are horrible. TV? I fall asleep.
Yeah, I have dated – fix-ups – Yuk! I mean these aging widows and divorcees are looking for someone to take care of them. Been with one or two I met at the gym that were not bad. Took one of them to bed and it was, I have to admit great to have sex again. But – both of them wanted something lasting and permanent. It’s still too soon. And they, like I, have past lives that kept creeping in – even when I was fucking the one in my bed she grabbed my back as she came and shuddered “Max!” I am not Max.
So, like I say, I’m pretty much a creature of habit. Work out every morning, about six, six thirty. Then I take my receipts from the store – I still own the runners’ store my wife and I founded – and take the cash and checks to the window at the bank about eight, maybe eight fifteen. Then it’s to the store and then home, yadda, yadda.
So, this one morning I get out of the pool, shower, shave and dress. It’s like seven forty five. I get in the Porsche – okay – so it’s my one vice – and tool up to the bank. I drive up to the window and I’m looking for Oscar, the kid who is usually there on the early shift. But, instead of Oscar, it’s a lady – make that a girl. Might be thirty – certainly no more. Kinda plump, blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun. She is wearing some ugly red frame glasses. Not fat, but too many pounds for what I can see is a really pretty face. , Nice set of breasts, showing through the blouse – not uncommon for a plump girl. But like I say, young. Maybe thirty. And plump? No thanks.
She took my bank bag, pulled the bank drawer back in and smiled at me. Dazzling smile. “Good morning!” She said. Voice like a little girl. C’mon!
“Well, hello to you!” I gave her the big smile. “You’re a new one.”
“Yes sir. Started last week. Oscar got promoted and I asked for the early shift so I could get to school. I’m Amy.”
“Well, hello Amy. I’m Larry Simmons. You’ll see me just about every morning. School?”
“Yes, Mr. Simmons! I’m taking nursing at Owens Community. Had to wait until I had the money – but I’m in my last year.”
“Wow! Good for you. Amy – hope to see you tomorrow.” And off I drove.
•******
Don’t ask me why, but all day long, when I wasn’t on the phone or helping some beginner pick out the right shoes, I kept seeing that sweet smile and pretty face. Now, understand, I have three kids, all grown. Okay – I’m sixty. So, girls under forty – maybe forty five are just eye candy.
So, for the next three weeks, every morning I’d tool up to the bank before eight thirty and Amy would be there, smiling, sweet and chatting. If there were no cars behind me, I’d stay and chat for ten, maybe fifteen minutes. Now she knew I was widowed, I owned Tracker’s Running Store and I had three grown kids.
I knew she was from a small town in Georgia and had come to North Carolina for the weather and a really good deal on college. I even knew that she was a cheerleader in high school, had married the football captain at eighteen and divorced at twenty with no kids. She had worked at a bank back home and was hoping to move up the ladder here before she became a full time nurse.
One morning just in chatting, I asked if she was dating anyone. She blushed so I could see it through the bullet proof window. “No Mr. Simmons! They all seem so young – and well, I can tell you this because you’re well, older? The guys we meet at clubs and stuff are boring or full of themselves or just want to get to bed.”
I had the top down on the Porsche that day, so I leaned out towards the window. “Well Amy – you certainly deserve more – but I can’t blame them for…never mind – sorry!”
She blushed again. “Nothing to be sorry for. If there was someone like you – well, you know – interesting and like that…”
Damn! I did not know what to make of that. “Umm…right Amy. I bet there’s someone out there.” And I double clutched out onto the street.
*****
I had to go to Atlanta that week for a convention. Just two days and I drove – just because the weather was nice and I had the time. Coming back I got to town about one. Herb from the store had been running the place and making some deposits, but I needed a cashier’s check for a new vendor, so after stopping at the store and wolfing down two Power Bars and a protein shake,
I drove over to the bank. It was about three.
I realized I hadn’t been inside the bank for months. I stopped by the manager’s office, but Tom the manager was out. I went up to the window. Amy! I smiled my largest smile and said “Hey! You never saw me standing up before.”
She laughed. “And this is the first time I had raise my head to look you in the eye!”
We both laughed and she set about getting me my cashier’s check. She handed it through the glass and looked up at me. Gorgeous eyes and yes, she could drop about thirty pounds and be unbelievable. Mostly in the hips and arms. Mentally, I already had half a workout and running schedule for her. I took the check and looked back at her. “Big night planed?” I asked. The other older lady on duty was at the drive in window.
“Well,” again she blushed. “I have to study tonight. Class tomorrow night.”
“Okay. I just thought if you had some time we could get a cup of coffee, maybe a drink? I’d really like to know more about you.”
“I’m off at four. I guess we could…”
“You know Antonio’s?”
“That nice restaurant?”
“Precisely – I’ll be at the bar. Wait for you there.”
It was a totally pleasant hour and a half. We sat at the bar. Felt I was with my daughter – but different. I told her of my life in short chapters. College at the U of NC, meeting Krystal on the track team, marrying, coming here to open the store…the names of the kids and what they were doing.
She told me of her life in a small town, getting married way too early. Working hard to save money, getting this job. I asked her if she worked out at all. She blushed, said she would like to, but time…
“Look Amy,” I scrunched a little closer to her and took her hand. “This is my life. So I know what I’m talking about. You’re young – you are a pretty girl – but you could be stunning with a few pounds off.”
I thought I saw a tear forming in one eye. “Hey!” I squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. I have no right. Subject closed.”
She squeezed back. “No Mr. Simmons…”
“Larry, please.”
“Larry. You’re right. I just don’t know…”
My turn to squeeze. “Leave that to me. Could you get me your measurements and weight? I’ll start drawing up a program – figure your BMI.”
She leaned forward. “BMI?”
“Don’t worry about that.”
She sighed. “You know, Larry, I was never close to my dad. Both my folks died really young – and you well, you are so warm and well,” her head went down, “good looking. I feel somehow close to you. I’ll get my measurements and weight to you. I’m usually embarrassed about these things, but it’s you and anything you can do for me…”
I leaned as well. “Do not be embarrassed, Amy! We are going to work together and it will be my pleasure Amy, my pleasure.”
Our faces were almost touching. I could feel the heat from her and my friend in my crotch began to respond. What! Am I out of my fucking mind? She’s a kid for Christ sake! “Now you better get home to study or we could be here all evening.”
“Oh – yes, thank you Larry. Will you be by the bank in the morning?” I nodded. “Good! I’ll have something for you – promise!”
o**, ***
I had forgotten I had a meeting in the little restaurant at the Sportsplex – the gym and pool where I work out – seven thirty in the morning. I’m on a committee to organize a fund raising ten kilometer race and we had a meeting.
It broke about 8:45. I had my cash and checks in the car, of course, so here I was pulling up to the bank window about five minutes to nine. I was third in line at the window with the pull out drawer for cash deposit, checks, etc. By the time I got up to the window it was even more crowded in the three drive up lanes.
But, there was Amy. She was wearing a really tight sweater that she shouldn’t be wearing, not at that weight, but her breasts were spectacular and I could see potential. She smiled as I pulled up. “Here you go Princess!” I called through the loudspeaker and handed my bank bag to her.
“Mr. Simmons – Larry – I want to thank you for last evening. It was special.”
One drink? Forty five minutes? Wow. “Pleasure Amy. Give any thought to what I suggested?”
Bigger smile. “Sure did. Here’s your receipt.” As she said that she winked at me big time. I smiled back and took the bank bag out of the tray and took off.
When I got in my small office, I opened the bag to give the receipt to Patti, my bookkeeper and felt something else in there. I reached in and pulled out a five by seven photo printed on stiff photo paper. Holy Shit! It was a “Selfie” of Amy in a bra and panties, standing very straight, one arm out to take the picture, the other at her side. There was a note in the back in girlish handwriting.
“Larry, I hope I’m not too forward. But you said you could help me and I wanted you to see what you are up against. As far as the measurements are concerned I’m afraid I am just five foot four and weigh a hundred and forty wearing what you see in the photo. I’m thirty eight, thirty six, thirty eight for breasts, waist and hips. Do you really think you can make me look like I did in high school?”
I noticed a wrinkled photo at the bottom of the bank bag. Damn! A photo of what must be Amy in her cheerleading outfit over ten years ago. Knockout! I quickly tucked the two photos in my desk drawer and leaned back in my chair. Damn!
I called the bank about three o’clock and thank God Amy answered. “Amy!”
Almost a whisper. “Oh – hi Larry. Did I shock you?”
“Uh – no! No! Amy, I’m delighted you had little inhibition to show me why you want…that is…”
She giggled. “Larry – see what a challenge you’d be taking on?”
“Oh! Yes! Absolutely. Not a problem. When would you like to get started?”
“This weekend?”
“No problem. Do you know Howard Middle School?”
“Sure do.”
“Meet me Saturday morning at eight. Is that too early for you?”
“No, not at all. Um…Larry? What shall I wear. I don’t have any what you would call workout clothes.”
“Oh. Understand. Tell you what. Instead, meet me outside the Trackers Running Store and we’ll set you up.”
“But Mr. Simmons, Larry. I’m really on a tight budget, I…”
I broke in. “My worry Amy, not yours. See you Saturday morning.”
o******
Okay, here’s a confession: I dreamed about Amy that Friday night. Nothing erotic. She was in a tight body suit, about fifty pounds lighter and smoking me around the track. I woke up bathed in sweat. I showered, put on my running gear even though Saturday is my day off from exercise .
I got to the store about a quarter to eight. With Amy’s measurements tattooed on my brain, I went over to the ladies’ side of the store. First a running bra – without that she could easily flail herself to death with those large breasts. A larger pair of shorts – did not want to embarrass her. Top? I picked a loose fitting jersey with sleeves. Again, I did not want her to be self-conscious. I’ve sold gear to many overweight women through the years.
Promptly at eight o’clock there was a knock at the glass door. I opened it and there stood Amy in sweat pants and sweat shirt. She came through the door, threw her arms around me and gave me a real hug. “Larry, Mr. Simmons, I don’t believe you’re doing this for me. I mean, I’m only the girl at the bank and…”
I put my two fingers over her mouth and backed away about six inches. “Amy – you are not ‘just the girl at the bank’. You are a very pretty girl with the potential of being a knockout. And you are bright and fun and…well, no more, okay?”
She nodded and I saw tears in her eyes. “Okay. But thank you.”
“Don’t thank me until you try on your running gear. Then we’ll have to find a pair of shoes for you.”
She pointed to her feet. “Well, I’ve got sneakers…”
“Precisely. Now,” I said, passing her the pile of clothes I had on the counter. “Go in the dressing room and change.”
She took the clothes and went into the dressing room. About two minutes later she called to me. “Larry? Can you help me?”
I walked over to the dressing room, she pulled open the curtain and was standing there in the bra I had picked out and the same panties I saw in the Selfie. “Umm…” she blushed. “Is the bra too tight? And I didn’t know if I should wear my panties under the shorts.”
Her breasts were indeed fighting to get out of the bra – but shit – it was a thirty eight like it said on her Selfie! “No, I think it will do fine for now. You want it to be tight so that, well, you want it to be tight.”
She looked down at her panties. She blushed again. “And these?”
I kept my eyes on hers. “Yea, wear ’em under the shorts, okay?”
F
ive minutes later she was standing in front of me in running shorts, loose top and stocking feet. She had her smart phone in her hand. “Larry, you look great in your shorts. Can we take a Selfie of the two of us? I mean I’ll never show it to anybody, just for me?”
I mean, what was I going to say? “Sure Amy. How do we do that?”
“I put the phone on the counter and you stand next to me.”
The phone was set up, we stood side by side. Before the flash went off, she turned so her crotch was touching mine and our arms were draped around each other’s shoulders. My friend started probing the outline of my shorts. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything.
The flash was bright and then out. But Amy did not move. I dropped my hands so they were on her broad hips. I pushed her gently away. I truly did not know where this was going. “Shoes?” I said quietly.
She blushed again. “Oh, sure.”
I took out a size six Asics and a new Nike model that just came out. She was sitting in one of the fitting chairs and I was kneeling on the floor. She held out one foot for me and I put the shoe on. I put her foot on the floor and laced it tight. Then without thinking, I ran my hand up the back of her leg to the knee. She didn’t stop me and when I looked up she was panting slightly, with her mouth open and her eyes closed.
I knew this was a key moment. I decided not to press it. Let it come, Larry – I said to myself. She is really young and you don’t want to misinterpret. “Okay!” I said a bit too heartily. “Let’s road test those babies”
o*****
I drove the three blocks to the track at Howard Middle School. No conversation. There was some electricity in the air, but I was not going to make the first move. Nobody was there. It was April, track season and the middle school team took weekends off. I stood in the infield and told Amy to start running. I had her run the quarter mile around the track, then walk quickly for a quarter then run another quarter. I looked at her face. It was really red. “Okay, champ! I called. “Enough for the first day.”
She walked up to me. “Was I terrible?”
I took her face in my hands. “Baby, you were fantastic!”
She reached out and hugged me tightly. “Larry – you don’t know what this means to me. I mean, I hate the way I look and you – you’re so kind and well, I just don’t know what to say.”
I
tilted her head up and she reached up, put one
hand behind my head and kissed me full on the lips. Okay, I kissed back. Hard. I felt her tongue creep out and I met it. She pulled back.
“Oh God! Larry – I’m so sorry! It’s just that…”
“Do not be sorry, love. I loved it. It only means what you want it to mean.”
We held hands back to the car. When we got to the store she came in, got her sweat stuff and came up to me as I was leaning against the counter. “Would you – I mean would you mind,” She was blushing again.
“Anything, Amy.”
“Would you take a selfie of yourself in just your undershorts and send it to me?” She ducked her head and ran out of the store.
o******
Man, what a start to the day! I locked up and
went for a ten miler. All through the run I was thinking of those fantastic breasts bursting out of her running bra. Of the feel of her tongue in my mouth. Of her sweaty body up against mine.
I got home, took a shower and put on my jockeys. I put the smartphone on the desk, set the timer and flexed by the door. It flashed. I looked at the pic. Damn! Not bad. I texted a message saying “now we’re even” and sent it to her personal e-mail that was on the pic she gave me.
About an hour later I was deep in the New York Times when my phone beeped. I opened it and there was Amy. Amy, stripped to the waist! Those beautiful breasts standing up facing me! She was in her running shorts and that’s all! The text read “no – now we’re even in the Selfie department.”
I
stared at that photo on my phone for five minutes. What the hell was going on? I am goddam sixty years old. Yes, I look younger, I can still get it up most times and I do keep the little blue pill around as insurance. But this is a kid! Thirty, maybe. I’ll have to finally ask. But by thirty Krystal and I had our three kids already. Yeah, asshole – but you are sixty fucking years old now!
*****
I decided to let it ride. I typed up a diet and nutrition program for Amy, added some stretches and calisthenics , attached some illustrations and wrote: Amy you are magnificent. You are going to be sensational. We can do this! And sent it off.
The committee on the fund raising run kept me busy every morning that week. On Wednesday, not having been to the bank, I e-mailed Amy: “How’s it going? Working on the diet? Sorry I haven’t been available for the second run session. Tomorrow morning six o’clock at Howard?”
I didn’t get an answer all day long. My fault? Look, I had to back things down a little, right? I lifted at the Sportsplex about six and then did five on the treadmill. I got home about seven thirty after a stop at Chick-Fil-A . Opened my phone for the first time since the store. Message from Amy. Picture attached.
Message read: “I’ll be there! Started my diet. Picture attached. Ball is in your court.”
I opened the photo. Another Selfie. You wouldn’t remember those “pin-up” pictures from WWII, but my dad had a lot of stuff around the house and there were a couple of pictures of pretty girls, their backs to the camera, hands on hips, looking back over their shoulders. They were either in bathing suits or tight dresses. It basically showed their asses in as much delicate detail as possible in a tight outfit.
Well, this Selfie from Amy was not that delicate. There she stood, back to me, legs together, head facing back to the camera, hands on hips, but she was stark fucking buck naked!! The legs looked good, the butt was, as I really knew, a little too big. No wrinkles far as I could tell, and it looked fairly tight.
Okay, Amy. Wanna play that game? Right back at ya! I took off my sweat shirt and shorts, kicked off my shoes and socks. I grabbed my phone, put it on the counter, set the timer and backed off. I put my back to the camera, tightened my butt cheeks, looked back at it with as big a shit eating grin on my face as I could muster and the flash went off.
I looked at the photo. It was stupid – but what the hell. I wrote an e-mail: “In about six months we’ll both do a ‘before and after’ and yours will look better than mine.”
Friday morning we finally wrapped up planning for the fund raiser. Herb had been the bank runner all week. Friday night I had another “date” with a fifty year old that one of my buddies fixed up. We met at a casual dining place, the three of us. After two drinks at the bar, Dan excused himself and here I was with a painfully thin blonde with a tight sheath on that showed mostly bones. We had dinner while she mostly bitched about her ex and how the kids side with him.
She got more than a little drunk and I suggested she not drive home. “Will you take me, Lar’?” She slurred. Well, okay. I told the matre’d to make sure her car would be okay, got the car keys from her and gave them to him. She hung on my arm out to my car. I opened the door for her and she came up against me and gave me a sloppy kiss. “Thank you Lar.” and flopped into the front seat.
I asked for her address, punched it in the GPS on the Porsche and the nice lady in the dashboard started me off. We were about three blocks from the restaurant when I felt her hand on my thigh. I looked over, she had her head back on the seat, looking at me with a leer of sorts. Shit!
I accelerated and the lady in the dashboard gave me directions very efficiently. It was not going to be as short a drive as I hoped. A few minutes later I felt the hand creep up to my crotch. I tried to shift in the seat, but the car is not that big. She started rubbing and since my cock has a mind of its own, it responded.
I kept my eyes on the road as her hand moved up to the top of my pants. Now, a Porsche is not built for a lot of front seat comfort for the driver. I mean, there is not a whole lot of room between my lap and the steering wheel. But somehow, she managed to undo my belt.
“Lorene,” I said softly. “Let’s not make me have an accident -with me or the car, okay?”
“Don’ worry ’bout that. You jus’ drive.”
I felt the zipper come down. Her hand reached in and out came my friend, half ready for action. This was not a good idea. I had no desire to see this skinny thing again. I reached down and pulled her hand away. “Why not wait until we get home, okay?”
“T’rrific. Jus’ wanna be sure y’er ready.” With that she withdrew her hand and fell fast asleep. I drove along, my cock lying peacefully between my legs, hoping I did not get stopped because by now I was over the speed limit.
F
inally, we pulled up to her really large house in a gated community where the gate was thankfully, opened. I got out of the car, tucked my cock back in its den and came around the car. Broad was out. I reached in her purse, got her keys, less her car key in my hand. I sighed, reached in and took about a hundred and five pounds of dead weight in my arms and shambled up to the front door.
Awkwardly I reached around her and opened the door. All the lights were out. I found the switch for the hall light, turned it on and saw the living room to my left. I took Lorene’s limp body to the couch and dumped her there. She was snoring with her mouth open. Even my eager cock would not be able to get stiff with that picture. I put her key and her purse on the coffee table in front of the couch and tiptoed out.
I made a vow to myself – no more of this blind date shit. My mind turned to the latest Selfie from Amy. I fished my phone out of my pocket and while half watching the road, looked at it. Damn! Now I was hard. Oh well, whatever.
o*****
I was at Howard at five forty five in the morning. Right at six, I saw Amy trotting around the corner. Not fast, but a nice even pace. She had the running outfit I’d given her and she had added a Clemson hat with her hair in a ponytail out the back.
I watched her in silence, thinking of Lorene’s bony body, her drunken slobber and her claw like hand reaching in my pants. God, this girl is magnificent! Yes – too heavy, but certainly not obese at all and look at the determination on her face.
Amy slowed coming up to the track entrance. When she saw me, her face turned red, but her smile was dazzling. She picked up speed and rushed up to me. We were both standing in the middle of the track with no one around. Her arms went around me, her crotch into mine and she kissed me with real passion.
She backed off just a bit. “Did I shock you?”
I slowly shook my head. “Yeah, a bit. But right back at ya, right?”
She blushed again. “Larry, you have a really cute ass. Wish mine was like that.”
We still had our arms loosely around each other. I reached back and squeezed her butt. “We’ll get this where it should be with the rest of you. Promise!”
She put a hand back on mine, holding it on her ass. “I know you will, Larry. But right now, that hand feels really good.”
I pulled my hand away. “Okay, Princess. Enough hanky-panky. Let’s get to work.
We put in a good hour, finishing with me trotting with her around the track. For some reason I felt compelled to tell her of my horror date last night, even what Lorene did in the car – no names of course.
Amy laughed. “God!” She said. “You could have gotten in an accident. Was it really that bad?”
“Worse. Amy I have to tell you. On the way home after I dropped her off, I took out the last Selfie you sent me and it made the whole evening seem better.”
She blushed again, took my hand and held it up to her breasts. “Oh Larry. That makes me so happy!”
We walked to the entrance holding hands. “Want a ride home?” I asked quietly.
“I only live a few blocks away. But yes, I’d love you to see my place.”
o*****
I swear this was not planned! I drove with her giving directions. It was a modest eight unit apartment building built around a nice garden. We parked in a convenient spot and we both got out of the car. She walked up to the first ground floor unit and opened the door. It led into a tiny foyer with the living room on the left and the kitchen on the right with the dining area right ahead. She went into the living room and she put on the stereo with CD’s already loaded. Weird! It was a Sinatra album.
She took my hand and led me into the small kitchen. “Sinatra?” I asked.
S
he smiled brilliantly. “Love him! Also Tony Bennett -and Bon Jovi and Michael Bubele and…”
I took her in my arms and put the two fingers on her lips again. “Shhh! I’m sold.”
She nuzzled my shoulder. “No – really. And I realized this must be the music you love, so I had to spend some budget on CD’s ’cause it is not easy to find this stuff on I-Tunes, and…”
I pulled her to me and kissed her softly and tenderly for a long time. “Wow!” I said. “I must smell like a locker room!”
She continued to nuzzle me. “No worse than me. You want to take a shower?”
Okay. Here it was. This would have been so easy. Slip right into it and bingo! Where would I be? Where would we be? I mean a few hugs and kisses? Yeah, some really passionate, no question. And of course the goddam Selfies! This is goddam high school stuff! I’m sixty! Time for a reboot.
“Yeah – better be on my way.”
She looked up at me. “You could take one here, I mean I wouldn’t mind. Matter of fact I could…”
I put the two fingers on her mouth again. “No Amy. Not now. Not yet. We have to do some thinking and talking.”
S
he backed off. “At least let me make you lunch.”
I shook my head. “No, but thanks.”
Sometimes while I try to keep my mind straight and stay out of trouble, it does not always work.
“Hey! I’ve seen your place – but you haven’t seen mine. Why don’t I make you dinner tonight.” Careful! “That is unless you have plans…”
She moved in and hugged me again. “No! And if I did I’d break them! Larry, I’d love it.”
I backed her off again. “Okay! Great! Seven? Do you need directions?”
S
he smiled and blushed. “No – I have your address at the bank and I – well, I Googled it. I can get there.”
o******
The drive home took maybe fifteen minutes. But the voice inside me was talking double time all the way. Schmuck! What are you doing? Where is this going? Your Andy is just two years older than Amy! You want to be a big man and give your girl at the bank some run coaching and a nutrition program? Swell! You’ve coached marathon with a lot of overweight girls who went the distance and blessed you for it. You’ve given thousands of tips over the years at the store. All good. But Simmons, you are about to cross the line. Fucking Selfies! Who do you think you are?
I
slammed the door to the condo. I was still berating myself. The girl obviously has like a father fixation on you. Unless? Forget about it! Dinner here tonight? Good time to get the record straight. Unless? Forget about it.
By then I was undressed, threw my running gear in the washer and headed for the shower. The phone rang. “Hello?”
“Larry? This is Lorene.”
Oh shit! “Hey Lorene! How are you?”
“Little hung over, otherwise okay. Larry? What happened last night?”
“Well, you got a little drunk and I figured I’d better drive you home. Your car and car keys are still at the restaurant.”
“No Larry, I mean between you and me.”
Oh, c’mon already! “Well, we had dinner, like I said, I drove you home. You passed out in my car so I carried you inside your house and dropped you on the couch. Sorry I couldn’t lock the door on the way out.”
“Oh, that’s okay. But I mean, nothing else happened?”
“Lorene. When you finally woke up from your drunken stupor, were your clothes still on?”
“I wasn’t that drunk!”
“Okay, but were you still dressed when you woke up on the couch?”
“Well, yes.”
“Okay then that answers the question, right? Now Lorene, I have to go.”
“Well, call me later?”
“Don’t think so. Be well, do good work, have a nice life.” I hung up. Alright, I’m a schmuck – but please!
After the shower I dressed and went to the store for a few hours. Saturday is a busy day. I chatted with some customers, checked e-mail and asked Shirley, my weekend floor gal if she needed me for anything else. She nodded no and I left.
Okay, dinner. Stopped at the supermarket and bought some really nice chicken breasts. Figured chicken with lemon and tarragon, some green beans and saffron rice. I knew I had a really nice Chardonnay in the refrigerator. Hadn’t had any hard liquor in the house for years.
I went through the New York Times for Saturday – I get the Weekender – really the only paper I have time for and it lasts me all week. Took a nap – got up about five thirty and went into the kitchen.
I seasoned the chicken and put it aside. I chilled the Chardonnay, set the table in my small dining room with a nice table cloth, the flowers I bought at the supermarket and two candles. Took my Blue Tooth, synched with the Sinatra Channel on Pandora and surveyed the place. Neat!
I took another leisurely shower and started to shave. Son of a Bitch! There was that sixty year old face staring back at me. What the hell am I thinking? I was acting like a goddam teen ager. No! This has to stop right now. Amy will understand. We can keep it friendly and I can really help her looks and self-esteem and who the fuck am I kidding? Oh well, let’s see how it goes.
I dressed in a short sleeved Murano Sport shirt and some light jeans with loafers and no socks. Added a light salad and put that in the fridge as well. I went out in the small patio in back of my living room. I’m on the second floor so it is a nice view of the golf course behind us and the low hills in the distance.
I took some deep breaths and said – okay, let’s see how it goes.
o******
Promptly at seven the doorbell rang. I was still on the patio thinking of Krystal and what this stage of our life might have been. I just came to the conclusion for the zillionth time that life is what happens while we’re making plans.
I went to the door, opened it and there she was. Tight, off the shoulder sheath dress. Cleavage aplenty as the dress swooped between her breasts. It came to just below her knees and she was wearing little golden slippers – Fucking Cinderella! Her hair was down, cascading around her shoulders. It occurred to me that I hadn’t seen the weird glasses for a while.
“Amy!” I exclaimed. “God you are lovely!”
She blushed as I opened the door and she took two steps inside the door. She looked to the back where the blinds on the patio door were open. The sun was just setting over the hills.
“Larry! What a beautiful view! And you look wonderful.”
I took her out on the patio, left her admiring the last of the sunset as I poured two wine glasses of the Chardonnay. I carried them out to the patio and handed her one. She raised it and clinked glasses with me.
“I know you can’t see it yet,” she said softly, “and it’s only been a few days – but honest to God Larry – I can see the difference already – and really feel it too!”
“Well,” I said, standing a little closer to her than I intended, “You’ll make really rapid progress when you start a diet and exercise program. Mostly what we call ‘water fat’. Then likely, you’ll ‘plateau’ for a bit then you will really see some progress, Just stay with it!”
She reached one hand up and stroked my cheek. “With you behind me I can’t miss.”
Time for the “conversation”? Not yet – why fuck up the evening so early.
She shyly asked me some questions about my family and I answered with no hesitation. What the kids were doing, their present plans and how often I get to see them.
We sat in the two comfortable lounge chairs that faced the golf course and hills. She asked me about the business and did I really like what I was doing.
I got carried away and started off on fitness and the obesity problem in the U.S. and how to fight it. We finished the first glass of wine. I excused myself and went inside. I put the chicken in the oven and turned it on. It was gas so it heated really fast. I brought the wine bottle out to the patio.
Before I could say a word she took her phone out of her small purse. She looked at me shyly. “May I?”
What the hell. So I held her close, cheek to cheek and another Selfie was added to the collection. I took a deep breath. “Amy, do you date at all – I mean besides what you told me about the club scene and why you think you’re too old for that.”
“Truth is, Larry, I’m too old for most things socially. The boys at the Community College are just that – boys. I guess I’m just not in a social circle to meet what I would call worthwhile men.”
“Well, God lady! You are beautiful and smart, you’ve got ambition and in six months or less you are going to be absolutely stunning – and full of new energy and well – I think something will happen.”
She finished her second glass of wine and looked over at me. I think I saw a tear in the corner of her eye. “Larry? Are you trying to tell me something?”
Oh shit! She beat me to the punch. “Well, no, not really. It’s just…for God sake Amy! I’m thirty years older than you. The only thing I’m trying to tell you is…” The fucking bell on the oven timer went off! I held up my hand. “Hold that thought!”
I ran into the kitchen, took out the chicken – perfect! Yeah – but just when I had a rhythm going and was ready to set some new rules of engagement – well, I’m not going to ruin one of my signature dinners – so…
“Amy! Come on in. Dinner is ready.”
She closed the patio doors and came into the kitchen. She handed me the wine bottle. “I’m not sure I’m going to like what’s coming next, so can I have one more glass of wine?”
I smiled and squeezed her shoulder. “Not too sure I am either – so I’ll join you.” I poured for both of us – bottle was about gone.
“But first – dinner.” I took her hand and led her to the table. There was still plenty of light from the sun setting on the patio, so I lit the candles and went back to the kitchen. Tony Bennett was singing “I want to be around” on Pandora when I brought the two plates and the salad to the table.
Neither of us said a word. She looked up at me. “You are a fabulous cook, Larry!”
I shrugged. “Well, living alone it’s not too hard to either get good at it or learn to love Appleby’s.”
She laughed and stared into her now empty wine glass. She had barely touched dinner. “Larry, I know what you are trying to say. And yes, I’m well aware of our age difference.” She reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “But Larry, I am living in the now. In the moment. Right now I am not looking ten or even five years down the line.” She looked in my eyes and I could not look away. I need you. Not just for training and diet and things you could do for almost any overweight person in this town, I need the closeness and what you bring to my life. Do you understand?”
So, what was I supposed to say? I gave it my best shot, didn’t I? Deep breath. I squeezed the hand holding mine. “I guess I do, Amy. I – I really don’t know what to say.”
“Well, right now with the candle light and this beautiful table…” Out came the camera. She kneeled beside me, held out her arm and the flash went off. She stayed kneeling beside me. “Don’t say anything right now, okay? She took a deep breath. “Right now, can you show me the bathroom?”
I let out a guffaw. The tension in the room disappeared. I stood up and lifted her to her feet. We kissed in a passion. This time she pulled away. “Bathroom?” She said meekly.
I led her to my bedroom and pointed out the door to the master bathroom. She went in and closed the door. Now, why didn’t I show her the other bathroom in the hall? Okay. I went to the table and began to clear dishes. I had most of it cleared and was whirling in my mind where the hell do we go from here.
I heard her voice from the bedroom. “Larry? Can you come in here, please?”
I put the dish down I was holding and walked slowly into the bedroom. Is it too late to step back? Or do I even want to? I’m a glass of wine behind her, but I’m feeling it nevertheless. The bedroom door was half open. I pushed it the rest of the way and stood in the doorway. Of course.
She was in my large king sized bed. The headboard was on the far wall, so when you sat or lay in bed you faced the door. Her dress, bra, panties and gold slippers were neatly folded on the chair near the bed. The covers were up above the waist and most of her breasts showed above the covers.
Okay, what the fuck! I walked over to the bed and sat down beside her, feet on the floor. “Amy? Are you sure?”
She reached out and took my face in her hands. The cover fell away and her breasts emerged completely. O my God! The pink nipples pointed at me and hardened as I stared at them. “Larry! Do you have any idea how long it has been since anyone has made love to me? I want you. I want your body. I want you inside me – now!”
She kissed me – sought my tongue with hers. She reached under my sports shirt and pulled it up over my head. She got on her knees and leaned into me. We were locked in an embrace with my arms around her and those incredible breasts pushed up against my bare chest.
I quickly separated myself, got off the bed and stripped. I had an erection worthy of a much younger man. She looked at it and seemed to gasp. Before I could get on the bed she grabbed my cock and held it. She looked into my eyes. Her eyes were misty.
“Larry, please?”
I climbed over her onto the bed and stripped the covers from her. She rolled a bit and was up against me. I pushed her down on the bed, sat back and looked at her. Her breasts had flattened out a little, but the nipples still stood at attention. Her belly was a bit slack and her arms were not yet firm. The legs however were sensational. They were slightly spread and she was looking at me with half closed eyes breathing shallowly and quickly.
I leaned down and kissed her lips gently. Her arms were at her sides and did not move. I kissed her ear and slipped my tongue inside. She groaned and her legs moved up. I kissed her neck and licked just below her neckline. Her hands came up to touch my hair. I reached down and began to fondle one nipple. She began to writhe on the bed.
“Now Larry. Please now!” She whispered.
I whispered back from just below her breasts. “Not yet, beauty. Just enjoy.”
I flicked my tongue across her stomach and felt it tighten. I got to her navel and swabbed it. She began to writhe under me. I let my hand brush across her crotch. I looked down. Fair, almost invisible blonde hair covered her vagina. I reached and let my middle finger graze the entrance. It was soaked.
Slowly, I opened the lips and began to stroke. She writhed even more and whispered “please, Larry, please.”
But I wasn’t ready. I wanted her ahead of me for the best of reasons. I slipped down on the bed until I was just above her vagina. I took one hand and moved her legs apart. They folded completely out. My tongue flicked across the opening. It was pink and oozing. I put my hand down and opened her. I took my hand and brought her vagina up to me. I found her clitoris and massaged it first with my finger and then with my tongue. I felt her breath coming faster and her hands tightening on my head.
She began to writhe more. She pushed my head down on her even farther. She began to shudder and a high pitched squeal came out of her mouth. “Now Larry! I’m cumming!! I felt her juices flood my tongue and my hand. I lapped at her and she came again.
“Larry please! She whispered, “Your cock!In me now!”
I rolled over and took my cock in my hand. Thank God, still hard. I slid into her; easy with her juices still running. I began to slowly pump in and out going deeper with each stroke. She rose to meet me.
I put my hands on those still plump buttocks but I could feel the gluteus muscles go to work. After about what must have been three minutes of steady action on both our parts I felt myself about to cum. Should I pull out? I couldn’t if I wanted to. We were locked together.
“I feel you Darling! She cried. “Cum with me!” I did. Damn – I spurted like I hadn’t in over a year. I pumped and she lifted and came and came. We both fell back away from each other, exhausted.
We both lay apart and quiet for a good three minutes. Then she slowly rolled over and cuddled in the crook of my shoulder. “Thank you Larry. Oh God. Thank you.” She began to cry softly.
I took her face in my hands. “Amy, please – don’t cry. Tell me what is wrong.”
She lifted her head, I felt her hand creep down and hold my now flaccid little dick. “Nothing darling, nothing. I just – I never felt anything like that before.”
I lifted my head. “Seriously?”
She nodded emphatically. “Never. I never had sex until my wedding night. We were in a motel about ten miles from this little town where I was raised and we really didn’t have money for a real honeymoon. So, here we were. I knew Gerald was drunk. I drove, matter of fact. I went into the bathroom and changed into this little nightie I bought just for this night. I stepped into the room. Gerald was in bed with covers down and his hand on his penis. It was huge.
“He said ‘come here, wife’ and held out his arms. I walked to the bed and he grabbed me. He tore off my nightie and threw me down. He pushed himself inside me. Larry, it hurt so much! He grunted and came in about thirty seconds. He rolled off me and fell asleep.”
“Oh God, Amy, I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, that was it. He worked at a garage in town, not being quite good enough for a football scholarship to college. I worked as a waitress and finally got a job at the bank.”
“Did your, umm, relationship get any better?”
She sat straight up in bed. I stroked her back. “God no, Larry! Twice a week he’d get drunk at the bar where he and his buddies hung out. He’d come home, go straight in the bedroom and call me to come in. Once when I didn’t, he came out and threw me on the kitchen floor and well, raped me. My husband!”
She looked back at me and was crying. I pulled her back down. “Oh God, Amy! What did you do?”
“Small town. Big gossip. I finally just left. Went to Atlanta and got a job at a bank there. Then I filed for a divorce. He didn’t resist it. Have never seen or heard from him since.”
We fell asleep holding each other. I woke up when a flash went off almost in my eyes. I sat up.
There was Amy at the foot of the bed. “You were sleeping so peacefully – just had to take one. Can I take another?”
“Well…”
She jumped back in bed, pulled the covers all the way down, held her arm out and took yet another selfie. This one of both us stark fucking naked!
Man, trust is a wonderful thing. She giggled like a school girl and went into the bathroom. I heard the shower go on, but decided for now, it was enough. Besides, like I said. I’m sixty. So, I’m lying in bed, listening to the shower and I hear her voice.
“Larry, could you wash my back?’
Shit! I have half a heavy already. Who would have figured. I slid out of bed and into the bathroom. I have a tub, but right next to it a stall shower, large. She was standing under the water soaping herself. I opened the door and climbed in.
“You first!” She cried. She turned me around and soaped my back and then down both legs, taking particular time on my buns. Then she turned me around and started on my head, my face and my body down to my crotch.
She knelt in the shower, warm water running and began to soap my cock and balls. Erection! She looked up at me and smiled.
She washed the soap off my cock and stroked it until it was really hard. Then slowly, tentatively, she put her lips around the head and started to lick it.
She looked up at me as if asking permission. I nodded. She took more of me in her mouth and began to stroke the base with her hand. She began to pull on it with her mouth and lips. I felt it begin to rush in my balls.
“Amy! I’m cumming!” And I did. She kept sucking until I got small and had to brace myself against the walls of the shower. She stood and smiled at me bashfully.
“Would you believe, I’ve never done that before?”
I reached behind her and turned the shower off. “Really?”
She nodded, her blonde hair dripping around her shoulders. “Never.”
“But…”
“Larry, the internet is an amazing learning tool.”
We both laughed, hugged and dried each other off. She dressed slowly, I put on a pair of shorts and went into the living room. The dishes were both on the sink and still on the table.
She came out of the bedroom as I was clearing the last of the table. She was flushed and looked radiant.
“Larry, about what you said last night – or didn’t get a chance to say.”
I sighed and put the dishes in my hands in the sink. I looked at her across the kitchen counter. “Amy – obviously things are different than they were before dinner last night. I need some time to think about this. So do you.”
“No Larry, I don’t. I understand everything you said and I honestly don’t care. I’d like to be a part of your life anyway you want me. I think I may be falling in love with you – but that’s my problem. Not yours. But – I understand. What do you want me to do?”
I saw the tears starting to rise again. I came around the counter and took her in my arms again. “I want you to be happy, Amy. There is obviously incredible chemistry between us. We need to slow down, okay? Let’s have lunch later in the week when we’ve had time to cool down and then, well, we’ll discuss it, okay?”
She nodded, pulled away from me and moved quickly to the door. She went through it, closed it and I just stood there. Alright idiot – what have you gotten yourself into now?
o*****
But, it was not as hard as I thought. We did have lunch, both decided to cool things off a bit. I said I would coach her from time to time, but I hooked her up with a running group during the week and on Sundays. I kept track of her diet. Got her to take a yoga class three evenings a week that I paid for.
At the end of the first week I got a selfie of her. Naked. Two as a matter of fact – front and back. I got a hard on as soon as I opened the damned thing Next week the same thing.. But the progress was obvious and amazing. She was blossoming.
We had not seen each other in person since our lunch two weeks ago. I missed her. Had Herb make the bank drops. It was Sunday again. No football I cared about on television. Went through the Times with half an eye. I hadn’t shaved since Friday morning. I was barefoot, wearing a sleeveless old running shirt and shorts with no underwear. I walked out on the patio…dammit! I have to see Amy.
I turned to come back in and the doorbell rang. Amy? I rushed to the door. Fucking Lorene! She was wearing a flowered blouse cut really low, and her small breasts were bursting out of it. She had shorts than barely covered her skinny ass and was wearing flip-flops.
“Hey Larry!” She called. “Was around the corner. Knew where you lived. Thought I’d come by and visit.”
She waltzed into the condo and turned to face me. “Well, Don’t I get a hello?”
I stared at her, still at the door. “Lorene. Well, this is a surprise. Did I miss your call?”
She flopped down in one of the wing chairs across from the couch. “I didn’t call – you would have told me not to come. So, I came over to make up with you.”
“Lorene,” I walked over and sat on the couch. “We have nothing to make up about. We had a dinner together that did not turn out too well and so, that is that.”
She stood and came over to the couch and flopped down beside me. “No, that is not ‘that’!”
I scrunched to the corner of the couch.
“Lorene…”
She reached over, threw her arms around me and tried to force her tongue into my mouth. I had nowhere to go. She pulled her head back. I smelled booze. “Well, you could meet me half way.”
Just then my phone which was on the table beside me tinkled to tell me there was a message. In a defensive move I reached over and grabbed it. I tried to move around Lorene and opened the phone. Amy. Stark naked. Gorgeous. Lorene grabbed the phone from me. I reached but she leapt up from the couch.
“Well!” She practically screeched. “Young girls sending you porn? Is that what it takes to turn you on?”
I got up from the couch quickly and grabbed the phone from her. “It’s not porn and it’s none of your fucking business!”
Before I could say anything else, she had pulled off her blouse, stripped out of her shorts and bra. She wore no panties under the shorts.
“There!” She shrieked. “You like ’em naked? Here I am!” She struck what I guess she thought was a seductive pose. Hands on hips, chest thrust out, Small breasts standing at attention.
I really did not know what to do. Truth? She really did not look that bad naked. “Lorene, please…” was all I could get out.
She took three steps and was on me. Wriggling her crotch into me, reaching up to kiss me again. She grabbed one of my hands and put it on her left breast. “Squeeze it Larry! I want you to hurt me!”
Okay! I got hard. Dammit! She felt it – remember, I had nothing on under the running shorts.
She smiled slowly. “Oh! There you are.” She reached inside my shorts, still right up against me. She pulled out my cock and began to stroke it. Made it tough to back off.
Suddenly she was on her knees in front of me. My stiff dick was in her mouth. She was giving me a really great blow job. But no! This will not work. I took her gently by the head and pulled her off. She looked up at me, blinking.
“Wasn’t I doing it right?” She asked. “Never had a complaint before.”
I lifted her to her feet. “No, it really felt great. But Lorene – look – you are still fairly young, not at all bad looking. You don’t need to do this.”
“But – I love to suck dick, Larry. And I love to fuck. And I’m good at it. You have to admit that.”
“Yes, you really are.” I pulled up my shorts although my cock was still at half-mast. “But that is not me, Lorene. Sorry, it just isn’t. Now please, get dressed and go home. I won’t say anything and I trust you won’t either.”
She shook her head, turned away, put her clothes on and went out the door without a word.
o******
I walked out to the patio again. Jesus! What is wrong with me? So a skinny broad wanted to suck my dick and fuck me. And I sent her on her way. I had brought my phone out with me. I turned it on and up came Amy. She was slimmer, but not too much. In just a month? Incredible. But now it would start to get tough. She would plateau. She could not get discouraged. So I called. I’m a shit.
“Amy? Hi, it’s – yeah. Umm…what are you doing now? Oh, really? Well, I was thinking about you – got the latest Selfie. You what? Oh. No, that’s great. I’ll be here.”
Ten minutes later the bell rang and there she was. In a tight yoga outfit. Obviously we were not going out to dinner. She pulled me into the living room and down on the couch. Wasn’t I just in this scene? She stood across from me and – dammit! Just like Lorene, less than an hour before, stripped in a minute. She put her hands on her hips and thrust her breasts at me.
“Well, see any changes – I mean you get Selfies. But how does it look live?”
“Amy! You are – are incredible. Amy, I’ve missed you – I just…”
She thrust herself on me and covered my face with kisses. “Please Larry, make love to me. Please. Larry – I even went on the pill. I want to be your lover – I don’t care what comes next. Please.”
Well, I also went on the pill. The daily dose “so you’re ready when the time is right.”
I lifted off the couch and took her hand and led her to the bedroom. She ran ahead of me and pulled the covers down and leapt onto the bed arms out to me. I slipped out of my shirt and shorts, jumped up in front of her, grabbed both breasts and kissed them fervently.
She pushed away and laid back. “Larry -it’s been too long! But, don’t I look better?”
I was sitting back on my knees staring at her. “You are so lovely. I am so proud of you. But you are due to plateau. Don’t lose heart. The first weight loss is always the quickest. Stay with it, promise?”
She pulled me down on top of her. “As long as you will be here, I won’t ever quit. Promise.” She reached down and grabbed my cock and guided it inside her already wet vagina. We made love. I came – twice. Bless the little blue pill.
o*****
Six months later, Amy and I were having dinner together. At a fine restaurant. She had lost twenty pounds, her arms were toned, her breasts smaller but still incredible. We only got together about once a week and every time it got better.
The wine had been poured and I looked into her eyes. “Amy – I’ve come to a decision.”
She acted as if I had slapped her. “What decision?”
I reached out and took her hand. “No! Don’t panic! It’s all good. Promise!” She relaxed. “I’ve talked about our age difference till even I got sick of hearing it. Amy, I’ve got maybe twenty five, even thirty five years of life left barring one of the deadlies.”
She smiled. “At least that – and more.”
“Well, if you’ll have me – I’d like to spend those years with you. And screw anybody who laughs at us.”
She teared up. “Larry! Oh God, I never hoped – I – are you sure?”
“Are you?”
“Yes! Larry Simmons, yes!”
“Hoped you’d say that. Called the kids today and they are on board. Sent them pictures of you and us together.”
“Larry! You didn’t!”
“NO! Not those pictures!”
We both laughed. Ate and drank and laughed through dinner. As the check came she asked the waiter to take a picture of the two of us. She smiled at me. “No, Larry – not a Selfie, okay?”
Okay.