Coming home after four long months in hospital was indescribable. My wife, Robyn, fussed over me, ensuring my comfort. There was still a long road ahead with physiotherapy twice a week for at least the next six months would. The doctors assured me a return of 80% of what the drunk driver took from me when he hit me head-on. A good part of the 20% that would never be returned was my ability to achieve an erection due to damage done to that area.
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We have never been the type of people to be worried about showing our bodies. We have always walked about the house naked, even when the kids were still at home it was just as natural for them as it was for us.
Dave and I have always made love with the lights on, in just about every room in the house and, yes, of course we have fucked outdoors as well! I just do not understand how some people can spend a lifetime making love in the dark.
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I knew the coming discussion would change my life, yet I debated with myself whether it was for the better or worse. My wife decided that we could not live together anymore and filed for divorce. The court served papers on me today.
I spent most of the day packing my clothes and personal belongings into a small U-Haul. The discussion we began was how to split joint property. I knew she wanted the property in town with higher real estate value.
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"Going anywhere nice this month Mr. Tunny?" the nurse asked as she watched Harold get his coat on and head for the door
"Oh just for a stroll and maybe to the shops nurse" the old man smiled back as he put his hat on and went to kiss his wife goodbye before he went out.
Harold Tunny was 73 years old and lived with his 78 year old wife Angela in a cosy little retirement home, over the course of their lives they had made some good money and could have stayed in their house which was rather spacious,
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I was on my way over to Karen's little home studio, Bob Segar was wailing away on my stereo, I was feeling fine.
Karen always made me feel fine, if you saw her you would know just what I mean.
Maybe 30 at the most, she is a Licensed Massage Therapist. ALL massage therapists should look like her, long dark hair, a set of boobs to die for. Just a trace of a pouty Bardot type tummy and sway back, blending down to an ass that gave me a reason more than once to reach for my dick.
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Sarah placed her coffee cup down and stared at her three friends. "Look, I know and you know, they're going to do it whether we allow them to or not. If not here, then somewhere else. At least here we can control the atmosphere," Sarah said, with an air of superiority.
"She has a point," Barbara stated calmly. "Dean's been in trouble twice already this year, one more time and he could lose his scholarship.
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I took a big gulp of water from the wet plastic bottle, and set it back down in the cup holder of my lawn chair. The hot sun was beating down, slowly cooking my legs and bare chest, and the sound of quiet voices passing by was lulling me to sleep.
"You look awfully cute in that straw hat Bobby," a familiar female voice said.
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Her passing had been very sudden. We had been sat together watching nothing in particular on the TV and she had slipped into a sleep that I realised, eventually, was death. The family had been caring, the funeral sensitive and then followed the lowliness -- that awful sense that something was missing in my life.
Our children had all left home, but living close, they had kept in touch, not oppressively, but supportively.
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I was divorced after nearly twenty years of marriage. It was an old story. College sweethearts marry. Husband wants to be a doctor so wife drops out of college to work and put him through med school, then quits when hubby becomes a doctor. After twenty years, hubby hits midlife crisis and decides the only way he can rediscover his youth is to trade in his forty for a couple of twenties.
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Mrs. Khanna ran into Mrs. Sorabji as the latter was stepping out of an exclusive shoe store at Nariman Point in Mumbai.
"Hi Yasmin," exclaimed Mrs. Khanna," haven't seen you in ages! How are you?"
"Very well, thank you. And you?"
"Oh, vadhiya ji vadhiya," said Preeti Khanna jovially, then her eyebrows knitted into a frown, "you are a clinical psychologist, right?"
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