Mabel

I watched my wife cavorting on the dance floor like she was the cheer leader she was when she was in college. She was doing the Twist and the Hully-gully and shaking her ass and tits and generally acting like she did when we first met. The only trouble was that she was more than fifty years older now. Mabel is 73 years old and I am 75 and we now live in the Sunset Acres Retirement Home. It's a fancy name for an assisted living facility and nursing home. Mabel has Alzheimer's and I have Parkinson's and we both are here because we can't live without help. Right now, Mabel thinks she is still a 22 year old swinging single, and my tremors are so bad that I can hardly get around without a walker. What hurts the most is that she thinks the asshole she is carrying on with, out there on the dance floor, is me, George Moore, when I was 24 years old. He is Ira Walden, a brash, loud mouthed 72 year old retired salesman.

I was one of the first draftees called up right after the Korean War started and I got wounded badly enough to be discharged after I was in for two years. My injury didn't impair me that much and I used the GI Bill to go to college and get an accounting degree. That led to the job I was doing when I met Mabel. I was a junior accountant, not certified yet, working for one of the national big five accenting forms. I was assigned, with a team, to do an audit, prior to a merger, with a midsized manufacturer. It was on the third day that we were there that I saw her; she was the receptionist on the front desk when I walked in that morning. I said to her,

"Hello beautiful, I'd like to take you out dancing."

"Slow up Georgie, you don't even know my name."

"Don't need to know it; all I know is that you are the prettiest girl I have ever seen. How do you know my name?"

"I have to know every one that I let get by me, I know your whole team."

"And here I thought it was my rugged good looks that sparked your interest in me."

That got a giggle and after a five minute conversation, a date to go dancing on Saturday night. I liked to dance and so did she. My older sister had taught me how to Lindy and Fox Trot and all the Latin American dances then in vogue so we cut quite a figure out there on the dance floor. I even managed to get a good night kiss when the date was over. I took Mabel out for a year before we got married and never got much more than some hot necking and petting. Back in the fifties good girls didn't go all the way. There was no sucking or fucking and usually not even a kiss good night on that first date. Later on, I got to feel her tits and get her off by rubbing her clittie through her panties. She even gave me a hand job a couple of times but she kept her virginity for our wedding night.

That night she gave me the gift she was saving for her husband. She has always been an exuberant and enthusiastic person and she took to sex in the same manner. When we finally were able to leave our wedding reception and enter the privacy of our hotel room she turned to me, walked into my arms and said,

"Make me your wife."

We kissed with a stored up passion that had me hard in an instant. We undressed each other, clothes flying helter-skelter all over the room. She reached for my penis,

"I have felt this before but never really had a good look at it. It's beautiful."

I was sucking on her tit when I said,

"It's going to feel better than it looks when I get to place it where it belongs."

I kissed my way down to her bush and started working on her clit with my tongue.

"Oh my god," she said, "Is this what I have been missing up till now. Don't stop. Oh yes, right there, more, yesssssssssssssssssssssss."

She fell in love with oral and me going down on her right then and there. I was too hot to have her suck me so I just reared up and slowly entered her. I felt her hymen give way and felt her flinch for a moment and then her hips caught my rhythm and we were off to the races. I think she came three times, or maybe be it was one long climax with peaks, but after that she was hooked on sex.

Like every one else, we fucked like bunnies for the first year or two and then settled down to a nice loving relationship. I never refused her and she rarely refused me except for the times when she was pregnant and just too big to be comfortable. Neither one of us was ever unhappy about our sex lives and we were completely faithful to each other. We had a good marriage with a few ups and downs, two children, five grand children and a mortgage free home. After I had gotten certified I had advanced to a partnership and eventually retired with a very comfortable pension. Life was good until about five years ago when old age caught up to us.

It was then when I first noticed the change in her. Some of the enthusiasm was gone; she was quieter and more withdrawn. She had stopped calling her friends and going out shopping with them. She had become more of a loner and spent most of her time with me. Then one day it happened, I got the phone call,

"Mr. Moore?"

"Yes, that's me, I am George Moore."

"Is your wife Mabel Moore?"

"Who are you? Is she all right?"

"Yes sir, she is OK but she seems a little confused. I am Deputy Riley from the sheriff's office."

"What has she done? Was she in an accident?"

"No sir, she and the car are fine. She just.....well... she can't find her way home."

"Where are you? I'll be right there."

She was only three blocks from home and couldn't find her way back. She became more withdrawn over time, sometimes spending the day just sitting in front of the television not even knowing what was showing. I took care of her for the next three years until one day my hands were trembling so badly that I couldn't button my shirt. I knew then that it was time for Sunset Acres.

It's a nice place and they take good care of us. The second Saturday night after we got settled in they had their monthly dance night. We were sitting and watching the people on the dance floor and I noticed Mabel moving in her seat, the music must have gotten through to her. I knew she wanted to dance but hell, I could hardly walk. Then that sleaze bag, Ira, came up to her and said,

"Hello gorgeous let me take you out on the dance floor." and she replied,

"Sure Georgie, you know I like to dance."

She stood up and moved right into his arms. When I saw her put her head on his shoulder it hit me that she called him 'Georgie'. That's what she called me when we first met. They danced well together but when I saw his hand slid down onto her ass I struggled out on the dance floor and raised a ruckus and damned if she didn't say,

"Mind your business old man. I am dancing with my boy friend Georgie."

"Mabel, He's not Georgie, I am."

"Oh poo, don't you think I know who I am dancing with? Come on Georgie, let's twist."

She turned back to him and started shaking her ass and tits in time to that old Chubby Checker song, 'Let's Twist Again'. Ira gave me a smirk and shook right back at her. If I could have let go of my walker I would have decked him.

I returned to my seat and watched them carrying on and then it dawned on me that Mabel had retreated in her mind into the happiest period in her life, the time when I was courting her. Some people loose short time memory, some can't even remember their name. Some return to a second childhood. Tonight she was the Mabel I met so many years ago. I watched them out there on the dance floor and when he got a little fresh and copped a feel on her tit or ass she admonished him just as she had done it to me on our first date. When the music stopped and it was time to leave he tried to kiss her but she would have none of it and told him,

"I don't kiss on the first date; you will have to take me out again if you want a kiss."

"Don't worry beautiful, I aim to collect on that promise," was the reply.

As we walked back to our room I didn't know who she thought I was but I could see that see she was the Mabel I had fallen in love with. She was the happiest that I have seen her in the last five years, most of the enthusiasm and exuberance had returned and when we went to bed that night she was humming that tune from the old movie, 'Georgie Boy'.

Two days later I was shuffling down the hall past Ira's room. His door was slightly ajar and I heard a familiar giggle, one I haven't heard in years, it was Mabel.

"Georgie, I told you I don't kiss on the first date."

"I know you don't Honey, but this is our second one."

Another giggle.

"You're right it is, OK, but just one."

It was quiet far too long until I heard her,

"Oh my, that was good; now let me come up for air."

"You are such a good kisser Mabel; I love what you do with your tongue."

"Well I'm not so sure I like what you are doing with your hands."

"Oh please let me hold it a bit longer, it feels so soft and your nipple is so hard."

Another giggle and then a soft moan from her.

"No don't suck on it.

Don't touch me there

Oh Georgie, don't,

Please don't.

Oooooooooooohhh yessssssssss."

So what do I do?

When you get right down to it, she was thinking it was me at a time when we were young and falling in love.

If I raise a stink and try to destroy her illusion it will take away the happiness that now envelopes her.

I don't even know how long this phase of her illness will last.

If I let her continue in her delusion, that prick is going to continue feeling her up and even getting her off.

I don't think he can get it up enough to fuck her but even if he could, would it be so bad?

I can't do it any more and she certainly isn't going to get pregnant.

She is so happy now; I don't know what I should do.

Do you?