Hi Folks, A couple of weeks ago I ran a half marathon as part of my prep for my fall marathon. In the parking lot a saw a beautiful midnight blue Fox body Mustang. The driver of the car saw me next to my Boss and came over. There was nothing unusual about that. For the most part Mustang lovers are pretty friendly. But this guy who was in his mid sixties and had just finished the race proceeded to tear me a new one. His biggest gripe was that I hadn't written a story involving anyone older than their forties since OIND GILF. He also wanted me to acknowledge the fact that there are plenty of older people who are still active and leading full lives. Besides his beautiful car, his beautiful wife took my breath away. The funny thing was that this guy, in his sixties and married to a woman in her forties is probably me in roughly twenty years. So Ken, from Chicago, here's your story.
Thanks to Barney-R for his editing wizardry. SS06
I felt like I was carrying a piano. As I ran down the dirt road that separates my property from my neighbor's, all I wanted was a shower, a cup of coffee and a stack of pancakes.
For a sixty five-year-old man, I'm in pretty good shape, but staying there takes work.
So every morning, I get out of bed and hit the roads. I run between three and six miles, as long as the weather isn't too bad.
This morning, as most, I saw the beat-up pickup truck that was owned by my best friend and neighbor, Wilton Jones.
As the gasping, sputtering truck wheezed by me, Will smiled and waved at me.
Maybe it was because my exhaustion from the run I'd just finished had me over thinking everything, but I really didn't like the way he smiled at me.
He was giving me that smile that assholes give you when they think they have something on you.
The thing that bothered me was that Will wasn't some asshole. This was my best friend. There were plenty of assholes in town, but Will, to my knowledge, wasn't one of them.
It's funny how one insignificant fact can stay with you for hours after the moment has passed. And that smile, only differentiated from a friendly one by an extra quarter of an inch in lip movement and a subtle change in his eyes, stayed with me.
Looking back on things, it was that smile that really began the second phase of my life.
As I rounded the bend and ran onto my own property, I noticed my wife heading into the house from the garage as I called it. It was actually an old barn that I kept my cars in.
My house used to be part of a large farm. We bought only the house and the four acres around it that included a nice sized pocket lake and a small woodsy area. The rest of the land went to the farm to the north that had been bought by a large commercial farming concern.
Seeing my wife, Maddie going back to the house from that garage was a red flag. Not that she couldn't come and go as she pleased. It was just strange that she'd head out to the garage first thing in the morning.
When I stepped inside the house, she was coming down the stairs. She stepped off of the last step and leaned over to kiss me.
"I had to force myself to get out of bed this morning," she said.
"Are you just coming down from bed?" I asked.
"Yeah," she said sheepishly. "I just can't seem to get started this morning. Maybe I stayed up too late last night after the kids got here. But, don't worry, you go take a shower, and I'll have your breakfast ready by the time you get back down here."'
I just stood there staring at her. She took a healthy swat at my ass and grinned at me. "Come on grandpa," she gushed. "Maybe I'm not the only one with a little hitch in their giddy up."
Maddie isn't what you'd call classically beautiful. And at sixty-three years old, she isn't even as pretty as she once was. But I love her like there's no tomorrow. The crow's feet at the corners of her eyes always make her expression seem as though she's smiling even when her mouth is in a frown.
She's a county girl. She's remained whippet thin, although we've both gained a pound or two as we aged. She doesn't have huge boobs or a big backside, but her legs have thickened over the years. I love her body just the way it is, and I wouldn't change a thing about her for any amount of money.
Maddie has a good heart and nothing bad to ever say about anyone. After forty years, I can honestly look back and say that I'm glad I married her.
So, I put aside the fact that she has just told me a bald face lie and head up the stairs.
As I get to the top of the stairs, I see a vision that stops me in my tracks. Long wet blond hair resting on a robe covered shoulder. Two thin arms lift the hair and finger comb through it trying to prevent tangles.
I see a beautiful leg thrust its way free of the spilt in the robe and follow it up to an ass that is so rounded that it defies description. Above that ass, a waist so tiny that the belt for the robe could probably go around it at least twice, makes me want just to wrap my hands around it.
Innocent blue eyes find my face and belie the fact that their owner is nearly forty years old. She smiles as if she's just gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar, and although I'm ashamed to admit it, that smile fills me with lust.
"Sorry, Dad," she smiles. "I used your shower, because your son is shaving in ours, and I don't want those little hairs all over me."
"Any time beautiful," I say to the smartest thing my son has ever done. She rewards me with another one of those smiles.
At the same time, a ballistically energetic form dashes out of the room at the end of the hall. He dashes between us without a word.
"Dylan!" says the beauty, stopping my grandson in his tracks. "Have you forgotten your manners?"
"G' morning Mom. G' morning Grandpa, is there any food yet?" he asks. Without waiting for an answer he heads down the stairs.
Kate shrugs her shoulders and after giving me yet another smile, heads to her room to dress.
As the warm waster cascades over my tired muscles, my mind wanders. I can't get over the fact that Maddie lied to me.
Just thinking about it has me on edge. I dressed and went down to the kitchen. Maddie must've heard me coming down the steps because she set a hot plate with bacon and three of her fluffy pancakes in front of me as soon as I walked in.
As I sat at the table across from my son, Matt, and my beautiful daughter in law, Kate, Maddie came over and wrapped her arms around me.
Kate smiled at us and pointed across the table.
Both my son, Matt, and my grandson, Dylan, were too busy eating to look.
"When are you going to show me that kind of affection?" Kate asked Matt.
"As soon as I'm done with my pancakes," said Matt. We all laughed. Growing up Matt had the temperament of some breeds of dogs. Everyone knew not to bother him while he was eating. Dylan seemed to have taken after his dad.
"Grandpa, can we go fishing today?" asked Dylan between bites.
"I was planning on it," I told him. After breakfast, Maddie grabbed me and smeared some kind of goop all over my face and arms.
"What is this goop?" I asked her.
"This goop is called sunscreen," she told me. Then she kissed me. "I have to kiss this face for the rest of my life. I need to make sure it's taken care of."
"But we're just going fishing," I said. "We're not going to be lying out in the sun."
"Just let me worry about you a little," she smiled. "You're all I've got."
Dylan and I got into my truck. He looked at the barn longingly. "Grandpa, how come we never drive your car?" he asked.
"I don't want my interior smelling like fish?" I told him. He cast another glance back at my car. I didn't blame him, that year, 2008; my 1993 Ford Mustang SVT Cobra was 15 years old. I had bought it the year it came out and had babied it ever since.
Over the years, I've upgraded the rims, the supercharger, the stereo, the interior, and a few other things about the car to keep her current. She's also had a paint job or two. However, that car has always been my proudest possession, and I'm careful about who and what I let in her.
"Grandpa, what are you going to do with that car when you're too old to drive it?" he asked.
"Well, then I'll just enjoy looking at it," I said.
"What about when you die?" he asked. I knew what he was hinting around about and what he wanted me to say.
"I haven't given it much thought," I said. Truthfully, I loved my grandson, but he wasn't Mustang material.
We fished most of the day, and by the time we got back to the house both of us were tired from so much relaxing. I know it sounds stupid, but you really can get tired from sitting on your ass watching a fishing pole and talking.
After dinner, I went for a walk with Dylan and his parents. They always wanted to see what we'd changed around the house and the grounds. My son Matt remembers a lot of events that happened around the house and our small town while he was growing up and tells us about them as we walk.
Dylan asks question after question about my car as usual. Finally, I break down and tell him that I'll take him for a ride the next day, and if he's really good, I'll let him drive around a while. That seems to really do the trick.
After our walk, Dylan rushes up to his room while Kate and Matt settle in to watch TV on the sofa. Maddie says goodnight to everyone and then grabs my arm and pulls me upstairs to our room.
"Mad, maybe I wanted to stay downstairs and watch TV with the kids," I said.
.... There is more of this story ...