The Geezer

A goodfriend, but don't cross him

I used to hang out at a small watering hole in my neighborhood called McNeil's.

Not a fancy place, it matched the area; lots of middle class, blue collar families.

McNeil's was popular in the evenings, and always overflow on the weekends. Every other Saturday night the owner would bring in a band, which just crowded us even more.

Jerry Larson was the owner and main bartender, his wife Grace, did most of the waiting, and weekends saw extra staff; usually college kids needing money. There was also the usual bunch of regulars you see in most bars; mostly older, retired men and women with nowhere better to be.

One in particular, a little, gray haired guy who always sat third stool from the end, nearest the restrooms. No one knew his name, he was just known as, and answered to; Geezer. He was a frail looking man with wire rimmed glasses, at least two days stubble, and old but clean clothes.

Geezer, never made a scene, never started a conversation. If someone spoke to him, he always answered politely and usually with a lot of knowledge on any subject.

The one thing he did not abide was rudeness. Speak to him rudely, and he would silently turn away...and strangely, the rude one would pale and stagger away.

Now I always sat at the very end of the bar. Coming in, Geezer would be at his spot; I would nod, and take my place. My beer usually arriving twenty seconds later. If things were quiet, he and I would discuss which ever local team was playing, occasionally some small comments about politics, weather if nothing else.

Once, there was a young couple at a table, having an increasingly heated discussion. Soon we were making out words; "well you said..."

And a response; "I never said that..."

"I hate to see them fighting over something neither said." Spoke Geezer, "Her mother is stirring. Doesn't think much of him. Too bad, he's going to be a world changer in a few years. The good kind." and his face took a certain look, something passed over his eyes...

"Say where did you here I had said that? It doesn't sound like anything I would say?"

"My mother said that you...My mother! She doesn't like you. I'm thinking...Oh honey I'm sorry."

And they went out, arm in arm.

Another night, a Tuesday I think it was, we were sitting quietly. I remember a baseball game was on so it might have been early summer. There was a big guy farther down the bar turning into a loud drunk; carrying on about what a hot shot he was, too classy for this place, crap like that. Larson spoke to him; warned him to quiet down. "Fuck it! I paid for my fuckin' drink. I could buy and sell this rat hole ten times over."

Then he reels down to us, standing between Geezer and I. "Whata ya guys think, is this a rat hole or is this a fuckin' rat hole?"

Before I could say anything, Geezer looked up and said, "I suggest you take yourself out of here."

"Fuck! I don't have to..." and his knees buckled. Geezer simply waved at Larson as loudmouth slid to the floor.

Now, if this was the first time I saw something like this, I'd put it off to coincidence. But I'd seen something similar several times now. To the point that I watched Geezers face as things happened. There was a moment of concentration, just a flicker, and loudmouth buckled. Geezer's eyes flicked up at me for a second then back down. But in that moment I saw something more in his eyes than I had ever before. I simply tilted my glass at him slightly, and then went back to the ballgame.

Another of the regulars was Mandie. A nice looking brunette, good shape, really nice legs. She wore glasses, so I couldn't see her eye color, but I could see they were always watching the activity around her, as if she were nervous. I had talked to her a few times when she began coming in, but her short answers and nervous manner had me returning to my stool.

After loud mouth was dragged out, I caught her watching Geezer and me, and I mentioned her to him.

Without even looking up, "She likes you."

"Me? Nah, won't even talk to me."

"She's shy; ask her what she knows about the game." And he kind of waved at the television.

Next thing I know, I'm walking down the bar to Mandie, and without even taking a breath, asking her what she thought about the ball game. She gave me a long look, then laid out the pluses and minuses of both teams, looked over at the game for a moment, told me the batter was going to get triple, his third of the season.

I had just turned my head when; Bam! He hit a triple, driving in two.

"And how did you know that?"

"My father took me to games as soon as I could walk. I've followed these guys forever, some I've kept track of since low-A ball. Then my husband and I went to about half the home games every season..."

"Your husband?"

"Well, ex now."

"What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Oh, the usual story, he lost interest in me, about the same time he got interested in another woman."

"Well, I know what that feels like."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, my wife thought her office manager was a better catch than me, so she made me a trade; I keep the house and my pension, she gets most of the savings."

"Ouch. That must have hurt?"

"For a while, then their company folded-sent all the jobs to Mexico-all the workers to the streets. They lost their house, cars, everything. She came around once, saying she had made a mistake, could I take her back."

"You didn't did you?"

"No, I just said thanks, but no thanks. Left it at that..."

"So...now you just come in here?"

"Beats sitting around an empty house."

"Amen to that."

"Why don't you join us down at the end?"

So over the next few weeks Mandie would sit with Geezer and me. It was amazing how relaxed she became; it was as if that open seat had been waiting for her.

One day, out of the blue, I asked if she would like to go to a ball game.

"With you? Sure, I'd love it!"

Looking past her, I saw a flicker in geezer's eyes. This guy is manipulating us, I thought.

Never the less, there was a day game on Sunday, I got us tickets fifteen rows back behind home plate. I hadn't been to a game in years; I didn't realize what I had missed. Maybe it was the company. We had a great time, Mandie wore jeans and a tight t-shirt that accentuated her medium sized breast, and followed the curves of her waist.

"Do you like what you see?"

"Very much. You should dress like this more often, it becomes you."

'Why thank you. I did this just for you. Well, and me too. It feels so good to be out here."

Our team lost by three, but we didn't mind. I had so much fun, Mandie was smiling all the time, and her hazel eyes shone. Yeah I spotted their color. We walked out arm in arm, laughing as we went.

She invited me back to her place, a nice two story about three blocks from my house. We sat on the patio talking about the game, then just talking. Somehow, she ended up in my arms, kissing.

"I don't know about you, but I think we need to move this to my bedroom."

I followed her up the stairs; her shapely, denim clad butt swaying before my eyes.

Her bedroom was feminine without frilly, neat, the bed made. She turned, opening her arms to me again. As we kissed; her hands dropped to my shirt, undoing buttons then pushing it back and off. Her finger drew a patter across my chest, nails scrapping over my nipples. In response I could only groan into her mouth.

She leaned back, looking into my eyes. "Would you like to take my shirt off?"

Without a word, I slipped my hands under it, lifting up and away from her belly. Just under her breasts I stopped; laying light kisses across the exposed skin. A minute or so of that, and I was ready to move on, so up the shirt went. This time it went all the way off. I bent now to the tops of the bra encased tits, kissing across the tops, pushing the lacy cups down until the brown areola were just revealed. Now it was her turn to groan, as her hands held me to her.

Quickly, she reached behind and released the clasp, pulling the bra off, and pulling my lips to her right breast, then after a few minutes, to the left.

Suddenly she was a woman on fire, pulling me towards the bed, while trying to unbutton her jeans. I was scrambling to get my clothes off, while hopping on one foot or the other.

We collapsed on the bed, hands running everywhere, lips crushing together. She arched up, pulling my cock to her pussie, not wanting to wait. I was just as anxious; as soon as I felt her cunt lips open to me I slid in to the bottom.

We both froze staring into each other's eyes, then she smiled. "That's right. That feels perfect. Don't move yet. I knew you would feel good. Ok, nice and slow, we're going to have a ball."

Pacing myself as best I could, I slowly picked up the pace. Her thighs lifted to grasp me, as her arms enfolded me. "Come on now. That's the way...can you feel me squeezing? Mmm... So good. I knew it. I Knew...harder...harder...Aaahhh...aaahh."

As she crested, squeezing me tightly with arms and legs; I drove deeply in, jetting cum I'd been saving for months. I thought I would never stop cumming, "Yes, yes, give it to me, give it to me...Aaahhh, so good."

As we came back to earth, I found myself murmuring words of love to her. And she was murmuring similar words back. I was smoothing her, softly rubbing her back and side, then running a hand down across her taut butt. She was clasping my shoulders, rubbing down my arms, and then across my chest.

"Well, that took a while, but sure worth the wait."

I agreed.

We spent the night loving, then sleeping a bit, waking to lick pussy or suck cock. That would lead to more loving, then a little more sleep.

We both called in to work, stayed in bed most of the day except to pad around the house in the nude to eat or shower.

Early in the evening we went over to McNeil's. Arm in arm we strolled to our usual spot; to find three empty tools, not two. As Larson brought us our beers, I pointed at the empty stool with question in my eyes.

"He came in a while ago, had one beer, then left. He left envelopes for you guys."

I opened mine; "You have met the woman that completes you. Treat her as you want to be treated. Listen to her, she has good ideas. My work here is completed."

I looked over at Mandie, she was scanning her letter. "Listen to this: The man beside you can love you as thoroughly as you need, but you must return that love equally. The child you will have will do good for humanity. My work here is complete."

We never saw him again. One year to that day, Mandie had a daughter. She grew up to be a fine young woman, a proficient musician, and an influential voice in women's health through her career as a doctor.