If It Ain’t One Thing Ch. 03

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Ass

Nothing much erotic here, sorry. Just me bored, writing down what is in my head at the moment, and what is going on around here. Mostly for me, I guess, like taking notes?

My wife Debra is in Boston, I am here on the Oregon coast. Alone. Again.

After living with a woman for a very long time, I always thought that a man would or should know about everything they might do or think.

So, being with Debra for a decade and change, recent events were a shock to the old system. She decided to stay in Boston, leaving me with two options. Stay here in Oregon, or drop everything I know in this world and join her there.

“We make more money here in three months than I make working in a year.” she told me.

Obviously, she did not know me as well as she thought she did.

One thing sure as hell is not going to happen, and that is me living in any big city like Boston. Noise, people everywhere, trapped in an apartment four floors up? No green everywhere, no.. Ocean a few blocks away? People all over the place, none of them I know.

Horse shit. Nope. Not going to happen. Debra should have known that, but she acted like she thought I would jump at the chance, because of all of the.. money. Like I give a fuck about money?

Her Mother passed, the surprise was her Mom left everything to her close to estranged Daughter, which is my Debra.

I admit that surprised me, too. But, part of that was in her will, written many years before, and nobody else left to inherit. So, Debra also had to deal with the laws in an unfamiliar State. We never spoke much about her Mom, I had a vision of an old woman, on Social Security living in some apartment.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Money? Sudden wealth? Stuff, like an apartment building full of mostly college kids, some stocks and funds, an upper floor huge apartment full of.. dolls? OK, collector type dolls, like I cared. Also some Jones account, Roger or Edward or something like that.

I just didn’t give a shit, but Debra seemed to. Yep, surprised me.

I just wanted things the way they were before.}

+++

One thing that seems to happen without fail is when a man, especially one with property, a few bucks in their jeans suddenly comes available, women then come out of the woodwork.

Some kind of underground signal system, beats me how that works but it sure as hell doesn’t take long.

Yes, even to us old farts. Now I would say on the one to ten scale I am a six or seven, so for my age, I do pretty fine in attracting a few mature ladies. Part of that is probably some of them figured they wouldn’t have to put up with me for long, then THEY would get the loot? OK, if I sound like I suspect some females just might have ulterior motives, well. I have been burned a few times.

Debra was in Boston and had made the decision to stay there and “take care of things” which is how she put it. Tearfully, I might add, upset that I flatly refused the idea of moving to a big city where I knew no one and nothing familiar was there.

I am an old man, I grew up half wild on a huge ranch, I need space, all there is to it.

Also, as close to stubborn as a Jackass as it is possible to be, with a wife every bit as stubborn.

Phone calls from Debra dropped to once a week, a few of my own calls went to voicemail. Working was what she told me about what was going on, I even asked her if she was making any new friends, and she understood quickly what I was asking and denied.

“I just use my toy.” She told me, lowering her voice to a whisper. Then she told me that maybe I could go get a rubdown, or perhaps go see Charlene at the waxing spa to “take the edge off.” is how she put that.

I told her what I wanted was her right back here with me, which got her to crying again. But nope, she still insisted that she needed to be there, because there was so much to deal with.

We hung up, nothing settled. Then? Women, interested.

+++

It only took maybe a half dozen people asking me where Debra was for the word to get out in our small coastal town.

The first one was Marilyn Baxter, a sixtyish lady with white hair that lived a few blocks away. Her husband passed away about two years ago, and we saw her around from time to time. Enough to say hello, and that was about it. Typical bit on the pudgy side single lady, the world is full of them since we men seem to kick off first.

Imagine my surprise, I was sitting watching the news about how the Democrats wanted to get their hands on the President’s tax returns when a knock came at my door.

It was Mrs. Baxter… with a pie? OK, I like pie, and if I want one I can just make one. I looked down, Apple pie, the sticky juices welling up through slits in the crust, I had to admit that looked good. Smelled good, too.

But? Mrs. Baxter? Why? In the few years we had known her, mostly in passing, she had never been to our house, not once.

Now, here she was, nicely dressed, white hair suddenly dark with highlights, izmit rus escort all curly. Makeup, too. Got to wear makeup to bake pies, I guess.

I let her in, got out some Vanilla ice cream and some Coffee, we sat at my kitchen table and ate some. Damn, the woman could make good pie, I had two pieces.

It hit me somewhere in there that Mrs. Baxter had on a skirt, just above the knee, bare legs which would be fashionable if she was 30 but she is at least 60. Reasonably attractive older lady, (listen to me, I am 75).

A bit on the chunky side, showing the signs of her age but carrying it fairly well. Also a blouse unbuttoned far enough to show some white and freckled cleavage and likely the fact that she was probably braless since things hung down a tad and appeared rather soft.

In my house, like that, where she had never been before.. bearing.. pie?

OK. Got it. Sometimes I am not completely dense.

Nice visit, nice chat, nice pie.

I managed to get her back out the door, said some pleasantries, went back into the kitchen and had me another piece of pie ala mode. Damn good pie, had to admit that.

THREE pieces? Man, would Debra nag me about that, but then, Debra wasn’t here.

I even smoked one of my cigars, IN the house, which if Debra was home might get me in the doghouse for days.

Now I was pretty sure that Mrs. Baxter was fishing, seeing if there was a chance at making a catch, which was of course, me. I was thinking about that when I also realized that her pure white hair was now that soft brown color with highlights.

Yep. Seeing what she could catch, I had a good giggle at that. I don’t care what anybody says, having a female showing interest when you are a still partly crippled up 75 year old is a boost to the old ego.

Hell with it, I went to bed.

+++

The next morning, I woke up around 5 AM like always, and the new problem had arrived. Seriously arrived, I had an erection so hard it hurt.

Debra had now been gone just over a Month, my live in Nurse named Kate had moved in with her new boyfriend, so suddenly my old body, used to at least once a week and sometimes twice sexual activity had seen none. The only time I got any relief at all was when Kate gave me the last bath a couple of weeks before. I actually think that was a goodbye and thank you situation, not sure about that.

Kate had done that for me maybe 5 or 6 times while I was laid up, both wrists and one leg in casts. But once those were off and I was healing, that all had stopped, so it had been almost a month up until that last time. Kate then told me the next morning she was moving out.

I realized that I had come full circle, right back to where I was when my former wife Dotty passed away. There had been a decade following, one day bled into another, not much happening, waiting to die I think.. The few available females around our corner of the world gave up quickly on me, I probably was not very good company since I was mourning the loss of what was the sunshine in my life. Now I was feeling, acting just like that again.

All alone, with no one.

Yes, I took care of my morning problem, I bet you all want an in depth description, right? Well, you aren’t going to get one. All it took was the vision of Debra doing her exercises before bed, stark naked like she always does and I felt lots better.

+++

I woke up one Saturday morning, went in and got some Coffee. It hit me, I had not even left the house for nearly a week. Outside, the Sun was just coming up and the sky was clear.

I grabbed my tide book, low tide was in just a couple of hours, so I grabbed a shovel and a bucket, hopped in my truck and headed to the river. It had probably been a dozen years since I dug myself a mess of clams, but I hadn’t lost my touch, and I was healed up enough that I was reasonably sure I could get down onto the mudflats and back to the house..

In 30 minutes, I had my 36 limit, not a broken shell in the bunch. I was just climbing up the bank when I looked up and Carl Phillips, our local fish and game was parked right behind me.

Fuck. No license, I forgot all about that, I had a fishing license of course but now we had to have a clam permit also. Fucking State is greedy, my Pioneer fishing license used to be free, now it’s 6 bucks. Then he counted the clams, I had 37, not 36, I had thought I was careful but guess not.

Now, the only reason I mention clams and the damn ticket is because Debra and I have a sort of daughter, I wrote all about that and posted it here someplace. Her name is Sandi, and she met Hal, a good cop that is now our County Sheriff, and nature took it’s course so I now have a sort of granddaughter.

Hal being a cop, I was thinking I could get him to fix this since the idea of being fined by the State for digging a fucking extra CLAM just pissed me off!

Since when is ONE fucking Clam going to cost me $150.00???

+++

Sandi was home, she saw me pull up and ran out izmit escort to give me a hug like always. Hal of course was off somewhere chasing some of our area drug dealers which we seem to have no shortage of. It’s safer to sell illegal drugs in our coastal area, up in Portland they shoot each other. Yep, safer… except for Hal.

Sandi and I sat in her kitchen, she sure is different now. The scrawny under nourished waif I found hiding under the bottom shelf in my closet years ago is long gone, she is now a beautiful young woman, filled out nicely due to bearing a child.

About the 2nd words out of her mouth was regarding Debra and what has been going on. I admit I hadn’t been sharing much, not even with family, but we live in a small town. the most popular area Doctor suddenly being gone gets around.

I told her the truth, Debra and I were at an impasse, and I could see no way to change that. I was also surprised that Sandi was not up to date, Debra used to call her or visit a couple of times a week. Sandi said it had been over two weeks.

It was a nice visit, killed some time. Sandi is a special lady, one success I have to say I am proud of having a part in saving. Her world was spiraling downhill quickly when we met.

Kindness, some good food, a bit of a normal life and she blossomed like a well watered Tomato plant. She gave me a huge long hug before I left, I spotted the tear in the corner of her eye. Sandi of course loved both Debra and I.

I also asked her about Kathy, the other young woman Debra and I tried to straighten out. But Sandi had no idea about her, either. I was hoping she wasn’t in some ditch somewhere, but not much I could do there. When Kathy took off the last time a few weeks back for supposedly college up in Portland, that didn’t last very long. Still, nice visit with Sandi, we hugged and I left.

+++

Nobody will believe this part, but it happened.

I dropped by the area Walmart, being a coastal town they have a rather good selection of fishing tackle. Like always, most of that is intended to catch fishermen, not fish, but I am one of those 10% that catch 90% of the fish. So, I got my new hooks, expensive USA made, the package said, (yeah, sure) and a couple of packages of cannonball split shot, which is all I need to catch anything that swims.

Give me some Sand Shrimp or worms, every fish there is will bite, even the ones that have never seen a worm or Shrimp and have no hope of ever seeing any.

I got my truck started, looked up and a large man, sort of shabbily dressed, was steering a slight looking nicely dressed older woman towards a dirty white van. I turned the dial to shift into reverse when it struck me that something didn’t look right.

The man had a solid grip on her arm, and she appeared to be resisting. Just then she glanced up and saw me, the look on her face was fear.

I opened the door and got out, the man looked at me and tried to move the woman towards the side door of the van.

“Sir?” I called out.

“There is supposed to be an Ace Hardware store around here somewhere, do you know where it is?” I approached quickly with a smile on my face. He turned to look at me, with a nervous expression. The woman’s eyes were damp, she was right on the edge of crying.

“Sorry, I don’t.” He still had that firm grip on the woman’s elbow, and obviously too firm. By then I was within a few feet.

“Let go of the lady!” I told him, loudly. Now if I was wrong and this was a husband and wife situation, I could always say “sorry” later, but what this looked like had alarms going off. He confirmed it by letting go, then he turned and ran. Probably a good thing, even though I am big at 6 foot and 180 pounds, scuffling with someone at my age would not be a good idea. I can probably whip anybody for 30 seconds, but then…?

The woman let out a squeal, I wanted to chase the guy down but thought better of that. It took me a few minutes to get the lady calmed down, then we went back inside, called the police. My instinct was correct, she did not know him.

My sort of son in law County Sheriff Hal showed up in about 5 minutes. Lights, sirens, the whole bit. I figured we had the guy since the van was still sitting there, but no such luck, it was stolen. Hal took some fingerprints, our descriptions.

“Dan, you sure seem to get yourself into crap, don’t you?” He told me with a huge grin. I had to admit, there have been a few of those. I met Sandi during a conflict outside our house. I was also the guy smack dab in the middle of a robbery at our local bank, it seems like anything that happens around our town has me mixed up in it. Probably because I am nosey, I guess.

Plus I tend to act if I see something I don’t like the looks of.

I walked the lady to her car, it was one of those tiny little “smart” things. I kept my mouth shut, no wisecracks about grass mower blades underneath, wished her a good day and turned to leave.

“Sir?” She called out.

I looked back.

“Will you let kocaeli escort me cook you a nice dinner?”

“No need, m’am, glad to help.”

“You saved me, I want to. Please?”

Which is how I met Millie Morgan. In a Walmart parking lot where some jerk was trying to grab her, in broad daylight. Who knows what the outcome could have been, did he want to rob her, rape her, perhaps.. worse?

I didn’t know, still don’t, as i write this he hasn’t been caught.

And I forgot to try and get Hal to fix my ticket. Fuck it, I wrote a check, sent it in. $150, ONE fucking Clam.

+++

Dinner, now it had been awhile. I am a good cook in my own right, but it is also a delight to experience someone else’s version of tastes.

Millie turned out to be 55 years old, and under the shapeless garments and heavy outer coat that is almost a must on the Oregon coast was a rather nicely built good looking mature woman. She did blink when she found out that I am 75, because at the risk of sounding vain I tend to look and act much younger. Other than some parts of me that still are not 100% from getting myself into stupid accidents, I am rather active.

And, I admit, Millie was looking pretty good to me and my old body had been without any female attention for quite some time. Millie and I were sitting in her rather simply furnished living room, when she asked me if I had ever been married.

“Still am.” I told her, seeing her face fall when I said that. That was the first mention of any of that. I then explained, Debra was in Boston and things were not going all that well, plus I also told her the truth, I had no idea at this point where that would all end up.

It was a nice visit, a nice dinner, it ended with several “thank you’s” for helping her, and I went on home. Now, I suppose I could have pursued that, but while I have been involved sexually with others, and also involved in a few things I guess I am not all that proud of, I still was not ready to become mixed up with any other woman.

But, I was clear I had made a new friend, and damn could she cook!

+++

Debra called the next night, there was a long winded discussion about her selling some of her Mother’s dolls at an auction. There were some rare pieces in there, and a few of the amounts were simply starting. Some you may have followed that, the one piece made the news since $111,000.00 for a doll is rather rare. Some Inca or Mayan or something like that, I never did get it and didn’t care.

She also asked me if I needed any money, which I didn’t. But she told me she had transferred some to our joint account anyway. That made me think I probably should go check, I never did any of that before, I had my own account where my Social Security checks go, and some money I made selling stuff online on the auction sites. I wasn’t going to run out anyway, but there was a pile of mail on our desk, some of it banking. I had been paying the household bills out of my own account, expecting Debra to get done and come home.

Then I told her about the incident with Millie, she already knew some of that because she had called Sandi and of course Hal had told her all about me being involved in it.

Which led to me telling her about going over for dinner, and all of that.

“Did you… have sex with her?” Debra asked.

“What? No of course not, I am married to you.”

“It could be awhile, Danny. You can if you want to, I won’t complain.”

“Debra, I have no plans to have any affair!” I said.

“You know that if you did, it won’t really bother me.”

I didn’t answer that, figuring if I accepted permission, then it would be like giving her permission. I already knew from the one incident she had when she was in school that the potential was there and I was not about to go there. At least, not yet, while everything was still up in the air.

“Maybe I will just go down and see Charlene.” I told her, she laughed at that.

“I am getting to be on the brushy side myself.” She said, her voice going husky again. That started some sexy talk. I ended up with another erection before we hung up. Debra always has that effect on me.

+++

Another couple of days went by, I was drying off right after my shower, and I realized I really was getting to be back on the hairy side down there. I decided I would call and get an appointment at the hair salon, get things cleaned up.

I would have, too, but my phone rang about an hour later. It was Charlene, which I did not expect at all, she had never called the house before.

“I have an hour penciled in for you at 3 this afternoon, Danny. Can you make it?” She asked.

“I.. uhh? I suppose, but…?

“Debra called and asked me to give you a jingle, she said she thought you needed an appointment.” She giggled. That was another surprise, but knowing Debra it shouldn’t have been.

I was sitting in the waiting room waiting for Charlene, the receptionist was a new young woman about 30 or so I had not seen before and she was cute. Bright smile, acting happy to see me, nothing out of the ordinary there.

Except she clearly kept glancing over at me, then looking down when I looked her way. I was thinking it was just me, except it was like she had a small smirk on her face.

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