tagMatureWill You?

Will You?

bymagmaman©

{I reread this before hitting submit, and yes, I realize it rambles. But then so does my mind.

What the hell, I am 68 years old and I can ramble if I want to, so there!

I was going to post this in "Humor and Satire" but nobody around here ever reads that stuff much and I am old so..?

Mature it is.}


+++

When Debra and I got married, I guess I expected it to be a bit like when I was married before.

My first wife became ill and was gone so quickly that I woke up one morning alone and life did not seem real. That had decades of sharing, sex on Fridays or sometimes Saturdays, movies, shopping, just living.

The one time we did try something on the crazy side we were behind some bushes in a park, voices all around nearby. Then suddenly a cop was standing there, we were caught with our pants down is what I believe the term is.

We probably could have gone to jail but the guy just looked and grinned as we hurriedly tried to cover up, then he suggested we get a room.

We never did anything like that again, but we had more than one really good giggle session about it.

The simple and easy truth is that I loved her completely, she was my life. For weeks that became months I could not accept her being gone. I found myself searching the house for her, finding only memories.

Several years of alone, living with ghosts of my lost wife followed.

Then I met Debra and it was like the Sun came back out?

I very quickly figured out that Debs as I usually called her was a different kind of female.

For one thing, she is a tad on the chunky side and doesn't care. The other thing is she loves to mess around in the bedroom, I swear it became her life's work to figure out how to get me up and going.

The other thing that is odd as hell is Debs does not have a single jealous bone in her body, if anything she gets fussed up at the idea of me seeing some sweet young thing.

Yes, I admit I do like to look, and not porno, either. I like the real thing.

Ever have your wife nudge you and say, "Honey! Check out the set of tits on that one!"...?

Mine does.

Does your wife wake you up in the mornings tugging on your dick about half the time, just because she likes to?

Mine does.

Does your wife hike up the bottom of her smock to make sure you know she is headed off to work at her medical office with no panties on?

Mine does.

The days that she does that, I know for sure that I am going to get some as soon as she gets home.

Debs knows damned good and well that if she does something like that, the idea will be inside my head all day with no way out.

Since she is a Registered Nurse, she spends her days poking and probing people, often in various stages of naked.

I accused her of getting her jollies from the kind of work she does, that just got me a big grin.

When we are in bed she often tells me stories about what happened at work that day. It turns out she really likes sticking her finger up some old guy's butt, and she loves handling and looking at their privates.

She admits that. She tells me all sorts of stories, we end up giggling about some of the things that go on.

At first I thought she was just making that all stuff up.

Now, I am reasonably sure she isn't.

On the outside, Debs is a slightly chubby barely 50 year old woman, normal.

I am still trying to get used to what this amazing female is like on the inside. It's getting past two years now and she does something to surprise me every couple of days.

The best description is that Debs is just plain naughty.

She also loves me and there is no doubt about that, I feel the same way about her.

+++

Which brings me to Rachel.

My jaw dropped when our neighbor Rachel asked me the question. She was such a cute little thing, I liked it that she came over to watch me tend the yard and chat.

Of course sometimes Rachel could best be described as looking sexy as hell, at first I figured she had no idea at all about that, she was just young, naive.

I thought that my on the slightly chubby and very naughty wife Debra might get her nose out of joint at me looking, since Rachel was no stranger on the street, she was right there next door.

Nope. Debra is completely at ease about sex, and completely confident in her ability to keep me so drained there isn't likely to be any real action on the side.

Now married I went from once a week in the bathroom with my thoughts to three times a week with her because Debs made sure of it.

Debra had been married once before, then single for years herself. I asked her early on if there had been lovers, easy to ask since she had just asked me the very same question.

"No, not even one." She told me. Same answer I gave her.

"Why me?" I asked her. We were in bed together at the time, both of us soaked with sweat.

"I read those stories you write, and you sounded like someone I wanted to get to know." She grinned.

OK. I have a couple of kinks, she has a couple of kinks. Perfect fit!

The other oddity was how quickly Rachel and Debra became fast friends, odd because Rachel was at least 25 years younger than my Debs.

Which made her a shade under 45 years younger than me.

Several times when Rachel came over in the evenings after her husband was gone to work, she and Debra would sit out on the porch and talk. I never really paid too much attention to that, I know that women sit around and talk about soap operas, things like that.

At least that is what I think they talk about, anyway. It only takes about 60 seconds of female conversation and I am off to the garage to sharpen fishing hooks.

Rachel had a hubby named Nathan, the guy is big and goofy looking, his hair sort of every which way. She claimed he was really smart, always bragging about him, but after talking to him a few times myself it struck me that he didn't catch on much.

Dough boy on the outside, the look fit the inside, I guess. I chatted with him about cooking a few times, no doubt he could do that, maybe that is what she meant? After all, he was the head Chef at the new place down on Coast Avenue.

He was more like a box of rocks about other things.

I took him fishing with me one Sunday, that was a trip to watch. He was putting a Shrimp on the hook and managed to get the hook into his finger, not just stick himself but he got it all the way through.

I happened to glance up and he was standing there with a silly look on his face, the line and sinker hanging off the hook securely in his fingertip, Shrimp still on the hook.

He obviously did not have a clue of what to do at that point.

It took me several minutes to get the thing loose what with the barb and all, I finally dig my side cutters out of the tackle box and clipped off the barb part.

Man did he howl at that, hell, I cut the hook, not his finger.

Guess it hurt like the dickens anyway. But it was either that or go all the way back to town to see a Doctor and we were way out on the dang jetty.

I got it out and he stuck the bleeding finger in his mouth, then made a face.

Guess his finger tasted like sand Shrimp.

I tied on another hook and baited the line, then he stood up and cast out towards the river. The sinker plopped down on the rocks behind him.

He ended up with a ball of line on the reel worse than any I ever saw, then looked over at me with that same dumb expression on his face.

It took me twenty minutes to get that sorted out.

Then he tried again and did exactly the same thing.

Finally I cast the thing out for him and he sat down, as luck would have it a great big old Bullhead grabbed his line in about two seconds.

He had the reel upside down turning it a couple of turns one way, then a couple the other.

I finally went over and hand lined the fish in, using my long handled net to lift it out of the water.

"Man, look at the size of that thing!" He said with pride like he had really done something.

"Here ya go!" I grinned, handing him the net with the nasty looking thing all wrapped up in the mesh.

He managed to get himself bit twice before I took it away from him and unhooked it.

Those Bullheads aren't like the little slick ones we get farther up the river. Nope, these things are lumpy and ugly, mostly just rows of needle sharp teeth and a head, with a little short stub of a tail and a big belly to hold whatever they manage to eat.

They lay on the bottom pretending to be a rock until something gets a bit too close.

Like Nathan's fingers.

I had to use a box cutter knife to get the mess off of that reel that time.

He sure was proud of that fish, it was pretty big as Bullheads go, maybe three pounds. He insisted on taking the thing home and cooking it for his dinner.

I didn't say a word, what the hell. Let him find out.

Nathan was a chef I guess, best he stick with his cooking, I thought. I did kind of wish I could be there when he bit into the thing, let's just say I cooked one of them myself some 40 years back.

There isn't enough seasoning on the planet to fix what those things taste like.

He and Rachel seemed to be happy though, at least on the outside. Hugging and kissing all the time whenever they both were around.

But there were some problems under the surface, as I found out later.

+++

My wife Debs works in a medical clinic as one of those Registered Nurse Practitioners (Debra says I am supposed to capitalize that) and Rachel became one of her patients.

Her specialty is Geriatrics, which means us old and getting close to dead coots, but Rachel was maybe 25?

Beats the hell out of me, that part. Yet Debra does get quite a few younger patients, probably because in our little town nearly everyone sees Debra or one of only two Doctors and both of them are way older than me.

Then there is the other Nurse in Debra's office she makes me go see.

Ethics, I guess is why. Something about Debra and me being married, she can't be my Doctor.

Nurse, I mean.

I do know that somehow that other Nurse ended up with my pecker in her hand just like Debs did the first time I saw her.

I think she just wanted to know what Debs saw in me, I guess.

Like I said, busy clinic. Every time I go in there, a bunch of old farts are sitting around waiting, reading Newsweek from 1989.

I know damned good and well why, too.

I accused Debs of teasing the old coots, she just laughed at me.

"All of you stubborn old farts will stay home and die before going to a Doctor if we don't do something!" She snickered.

Probably true, that part.

+++

Nathan and Rachel had only been married about a year or so when Debra had mentioned they were having that bit of a problem in the bedroom.

None of my business, except that then Rachel showed up one day while I was out spiffing up my yard and shifted the conversation that way.

I was sort of trapped, hell, I am no therapist. I just wanted to be left alone. I was having fun trying to make every blade of grass in my lawn look exactly the same.

Don't get me wrong, I liked looking at Rachel just fine, like I said, she was a cute little gal.

Sometimes she had on outfits that would make Daisy Duke blush and I didn't mind that at all.

Talking to her about woman's stuff wasn't my thing though. Trust me ladies when I say us menfolk are completely content to go through life not knowing about some things.

So I was answering mostly with grunts and nods, wanting to get up and go inside but Rachel was standing right there and she appeared to be serious.

"Will you?" She asked finally, just two words, they shocked me. She plain and simple bluntly asked me to teach her about....sex?

Woman just do not ask men straight out questions like that.

+++

I had spent that entire morning out trimming the Rose bushes, my wife Debra and I were going to have the best damn yard in the entire city this year. I do include her in that even though her entire contribution was to pull one tiny little Dandelion peeking it's head up close to one of the Roses.

The city fathers send people out to go up and down the streets to pick the best yard, the reward was a neat plaque to hang on the wall, and two tickets for dinner at the new place down on Coast avenue.

We would get our picture in the local paper, too.

Headline news in our tiny little city was how good the Crab festival was each year, or some art festival where everyone showed off their paintings of stuff that no one could tell what the hell it was supposed to be.

Debs and I even went to the art thing once. A bunch of people were wandering around looking at everything.

I bet none of them knew what the hell most of it was supposed to be, either.

Usually the other headlines in our local newspaper were about how the City was seeking new sources of money to spend, talking about ways to raise fees on everybody.

Like when they decided to do a cleanup project down by the docks. One of the officials actually said "five million" and the word "only" in the same sentence.

I wrote one of those letters to the Editor about that one, but I never mailed it. Words like "stupid bastards" and "thieving assholes" would probably get them pissed off at me.

Once when some guy robbed the Big Bob's Burgers and got away with $48.52 the newspaper people were so excited printing that story they forgot to put the weekly tide table in there.

That pissed me off, I had to go down to the hardware store and get a tide book. Hell, how could I go fishing if I didn't know when low tide was?

Bunch of dummies down at that newspaper, they miss all the important stuff.

Anyway, the annual winner of the BEST YARD contest was also big news.

I wanted to win!

But it seems the Mayor had three Hispanic guys that worked on his yard, plus it was bigger than mine.

So of course he nearly always won. He won the last five years in a row at least, I couldn't find records going back any farther.

Probably not, he has only been the Mayor for five years.

But I was going for it anyway, what the hell, I was retired. Not a hell of a lot to do around here.

Debra and I had never eaten at the fancy new restaurant either but everybody raved about the place including Rachel, whose husband Nathan was the head chef there. I even saw the menu, they had fancy names for steaks they poured vegetables and some kind of sauce over, things like that.

A steak just needs flour and some salt and pepper, fry the damn thing, but what do I know?

Pasta dishes too, with long fancy names and all the prices matched the fancy names.

Hell, you put Cheese on Pasta, what's the big deal there?

Besides, I get $901.20 from Social Security, no way in hell am I going to drop a hundred bucks on dinner for two.

One thing about money, I have mine and Debs has hers, she insisted on that after I mentioned I wanted an ATV so I could get farther out on the jetty to go fishing.

Debs threw a fit about that, she doesn't want me anywhere near those jetties, she is sure I will fall in.

So I just don't tell her I go out there sometimes.

But win two free tickets? Sure, in that case I would give the steaks with sauce on them a try.

Since the one thing I had was a lot of time, our lawn had nothing in it but the grass I had planted, and it was an impossible green color.

Every single Rose bush was almost exactly the same size, each one of them plastered with a beautiful display of blossoms. Not one single bug, I checked under every leaf. Not one single brown leaf, try that sometime in a coastal town that gets salt spray off the Ocean.

Every morning I went out and carefully misted them down with my little squirt bottle to get the fog off of them. I was thinking there was a trace of Salt in that fog. Maybe not but no point in taking chances.

I did the borders with a big soft brush and a pair of scissors, piled the pretty rocks I got down at the beach carefully around the Rose bush stems.

Yea, I know. I wasn't supposed to swipe rocks off the beaches, but I had my little bag I carried with me and a fishing pole, so anyone that saw me figured I was just after one of the 5 inch long fish the Seals hadn't yet caught.

Often I actually did go fishing, but it was becoming hard to do with the damn Seals lying sideways in the middle of the walkway out to the dock. They wouldn't move their fat asses, either.

Once I hauled off and smacked one of them with the tip of my fishing pole, all it did was bark at me and show me it's teeth.

I used the docks most of the time now, ever since I fell in out on the jetty. A couple of kids were nice enough to drag me back out, then the one told me I needed to be more careful, and he called me "Pops"...!

That made me crabby, I could have gotten out of there all by myself!

I think.

Bunch of damned Seals all over out there, too.

Those were the big deal in our town, though, they brought the tourists. The tourists fed them, which of course brought even more of the damned things.

Then the city fathers decided to spruce up our little city, so that's how the annual contest and yard festival got started.

More tourists.

+++

It's easy to find out stuff, with my wife Debra being a Doctor. Well, I mean she is a Registered Nurse Practitioner, still, she runs the clinic.

I told you my Debra is on the naughty side, part of what I like about her. Not very many days go by without her doing something that surprises me.

Like running around the casino down in Reno on our honeymoon with no panties on. Nobody else knew about that of course but I did. Silly stuff but it sure works to get the old tally whacker to perk up.

They do have a Doctor on staff at her clinic, they have to because it's the law. But left to his own devices I think the population in our City would drop by about 10%.

The system is dumb and expensive. First a patient sees the Nurse, if there is a serious issue then it is usually go on to see the Doctor. The smart ones go back to see the Nurse, which is my Debs or her office partner. They overrule the Doctor to keep him from killing them and send the patient to a specialist.

Like way back when the other Nurse sent me to see Doctor Crowbar. I call him that because no way in hell can I pronounce his name. He did one of those colon exams on me, basically a crowbar with a camera on the end of it.

They put me under for that, probably so they wouldn't have to listen to me cuss them out.

Later I listened to him tell me what they found, which if he spoke English it might have helped.

I made them print out the report, gave it to Debra.

"You are just fine, honey!" She said. Good enough for me.

Medicare got billed about four grand.

Since the vast majority of the patients are old farts like me, Medicare gets the hell billed out of them. It's part of why the whole system is fucked up, but I can't fix that so I don't even try.

Yep. The system sucks.

+++

Why Debs liked me I am still not sure. Maybe because when she was giving me that physical she had my dick right in her hand and liked it?

It is sort of bigger than most I guess. It still works, too, not bad for being 68 years old. Well, I was just 65 back then.

I never will forget that day, Debra was sitting there on her little roller stool, one hand on my old pecker and her face maybe six inches from the end of it.

"Do you mind if I slide your foreskin back?" She asked me, right after she slid my foreskin back.

Which made the thing come right up, of course. I turned bright pink, all Debra did was giggle.

It hit me that she was having fun.

I accused her of that, anyway.

Then she found out I was a widower, next she somehow discovered that I like to write naughty stories sometimes?

She made a pass at me!

Turns out that Debra is every bit as nasty as I am, actually a bit more so I think. Once she figured out for sure that I was a naughty old pervert, she more or less dragged me into the sack and took advantage of my being old and infirm.

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