Old folks do it too (standard:humor, 1126 words)
Author: Greggo	Added: Mar 29 2002	Views/Reads: 3767/1	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
It's never too late to meet true love. Just remember that if you do, your body isn't what it once was.

Old Folks Do It Too 

On Tuesday I turned seventy and I didn't even get laid. All the women in
my old folks home threw me a party: no surprise parties was a strictly 
enforced rule. I was definitely excited during the days leading up to 
my big day. I had dropped hints about what I wanted and I thought a 
couple of my peers would deliver. Some of the women knew that I've 
always fantasized about the two women at once idea and needless to say 
I had stocked up on the viagra. I only got a birthday cake and the only 
skin I saw that Tuesday was when one of the ninety year-old dementia 
patients forgot her meds and was walking around flashing her chest. 
After that I wasn't in the mood for cake.  Gees it's like they think 
I'll live forever. At least I spent a little time with the chick I'm 
courting at the moment. Her name is Grace and she is only sixty-two; 
I've always had a thing for the younger women although I've never had 
much luck in all my years. Grace had walked me to my room at eight, as 
I can't handle these late nights like I used to.  She did, however, 
give me what little action that I've had in months: a kiss on my 
wrinkled, weathered, musky cheek. Then she went to her room and had a 
stroke. I attended her funeral on Friday and have been in a foul mood 
since. 

I despise aging. I wish I would die now. Actually I think I should have
died when life started not being fun anymore; my memory is rotting but 
I think life started its downhill descent when I turned thirty. God 
plays little games on people like me, you know those people whose death 
can't seem to come soon enough: He lets us live to one hundred. There's 
some racket coming form the hallway, where Grace's room used to be. 
Perhaps it's her ghost. Perhaps Grace had time to read my impure 
thoughts that I'd had about her and now she's coming back to haunt me. 
Good! Maybe she'll give me that fatal heart attack that I‘ve been 
anticipating. What an especially delightful belated-birthday present 
that would be. No such luck. 

I had a new neighbor. Her name was Elizabeth ("call me Lizzy") Frost.
What a vixen! A dazzling smile startled me first off but then I saw her 
body. She was wearing a sexy silky gown with 3 buttons down the front. 
I noticed the subtle perkiness that her wardrobe vaguely teased me 
with. And then I was overwhelmed by the scent of heaven: a tasty, 
delicious odor that recalls charming, forgotten memories of decades 
old.  I was in love! That afternoon I showed her around the place. I 
introduced her to the guys, equally smitten by her captivating aura. I 
introduced her to the girls from whom afterwards I heard soft whispers 
of jealousy. "I bet they're fake", scorned Phyllis with a declaration 
of agreement following. I asked her if her teeth were in fact real and 
she told me. For your information: Lizzy is 100% real! 

Over the following weeks Lizzy and I were inseparable. I taught her
shuffleboard and she accompanied me to Bingo night (which I had always 
only gone to since it was a female meat market). Neither Lizzy nor I 
had ever settled down to get married and I immediately took this as a 
sign. It was nearing the end of the year and I made a plan: I was going 
to propose!  I asked a nurse to find me a ring on the outside. I was 
one of the wealthier of the oldies and I spared no expense. I gave the 
nurse a three thousand-dollar check, a pinch on the ass, and the 
liberty to choose the ring of her choice. I was going to pop the 
question on New Year's Eve. 

As the year drew to an end I became more nervous and nervous. I felt
twelve years old; I even considered a note proposal. Like "Dear 
Elizabeth. Will you marry me: Yes or No (Circle one)". Christmas came 
and went. Today was the day. I knocked on her door since we had made a 
date to eat together and then watch the fireworks in the common room. I 
scooped her lovely hand in mine and without a word I directed her into 
my room. I had arranged a candlelit dinner (with permission from the 
nurses) and sat her down for some wine and lobster. We dined and 
laughed and she smiled and I sweated. My moist hands reached for the 
ring and I looked at her with adoration; my fear disappeared. I asked 
and she accepted with tears glowing in those lovely brilliant eyes.  As 
we wandered to the common room, with the ring on display around her 
delicate finger, we received a welcome round of congratulations. We 
started to celebrate being only a few hours away from the count down to 
next year. Every year is the same for us old folks and this year was no 
exception: despite our intentions we were all in bed by 10 o'clock. 

I was finally getting married. I was finally going to get some action.
This was going to be a good year!  We didn't splurge on the wedding. 
Everyone that could walk or roll to the common room attended. I wore my 
best suit and Lizzy wore her best dress and we were married. After the 
kiss we were pushed in wheelchairs with tin cans tied to the back up to 
our room.  Finally in the bedroom, finally on the bed with Elizabeth 
Frost I finally felt complete. I could feel a sensation of pride 
mounting in my chest. "I have a confession" she whispered. "This is my 
first time". I felt my groin would burst right then and there. Even 
without viagra I felt that I would go on all night. Imagine being 
seventy years and marrying a virgin: the guys won't believe this! We 
lay together and took things slow. She was nervous and so was I.  I 
leaned down on top of her gentle body, kissing and caressing. As I 
approached my peak I heard a ‘pop'.  Suddenly I couldn't breath: my 
lungs seized up. I rolled off and slammed into the floor. Anyone 
listening outside would've thought that we were a couple of kinky of 
kooks. I was actually dying. Elizabeth started screaming and kept 
screaming for five minutes before a nurse became courageous enough to 
knock on the door.  The last thing I heard was the nurse burst through 
the door too late... I told you: God thinks He's sooooo funny! 


Tweet