I awoke to the sounds of youthful lovemaking. It was another gray morning inherent of the Pacific Northwest and my aching joints reminded me time waits for no one. Easing myself from beneath the down comforter, I grabbed my smokes from the nightstand and staggered gingerly over to the window. The grey dawns light was rich with shadows as I focused on the two lovers rolling passionately atop one another on the dew sprinkled grass of the front lawn of the apartments.

Even from my second story viewpoint it was clear that "Romeo" was quite well endowed and primed with youthful zeal as his hips pumped forcefully into the tiny form beneath him. Her gasps of ecstasy could be heard clearly as her pummeled small tit body was wracked with orgasms. Grabbing my bath robe, I made my way out onto the patio for a better view. It was cold outside, yet manageable as I lit up and let the smoke swirl through my lungs. Leaning over the railing, I saw several other couples scattered amongst the bushes in the distance going at it with passionate abandon as the first drops of rain began to fall.

"I'd give them and eight out of ten," offered my amused neighbor Rose as she watched from the deck of her adjacent apartment. Damn near shit my PJ's.

"Uh yeah," I mumbled, turning my attention back to the nearest couple who were now quite close to their "grand finale." He had pulled his pants pulled down further and was pumping with almost reckless abandon. His companion was now virtually a lifeless rag doll beneath his onslaught, an occasional shriek confirming life to her otherwise lifeless body. Despite witnessing similar acts recently on numerous occasions, I was still aroused.

"I could go for a refill, Honey." It was Rose with a glazed look in her eyes as they focused on my now tenting robe. Now normally, I don't partake in the "fruit" until I'm showered and shaved yet Rose was warm wet and willing with a live porno right in front of us. That being said; I nodded and motioned her to come on over. With uncanny agility for an overweight senior, she leapt over the thin railing and moved in front of me while pulling down her musky drawers. My PJ's dropped to my ankles and within moments I was probing her moist, velvety depths like a sex starved school boy. Her vaginal muscles were surprisingly well toned for a woman her age. I felt her free hand snake between her legs and massage my two throbbing orbs with the firm gentleness that can only come from experience as moans of passion accompanied every thrust.

Here I was rutting Rose with a similar voracity as the young stud in front of us on the grass. The sounds of bodies slapping together, grateful mutterings of encouragement from our female counterparts, overpowering sex scent and the overwhelming sensations of Rose urgently tugging and messaging my package brought me over the edge far more quickly than I thought possible. He growled, she shrieked, I grunted and Rose gasped as we collectively unloaded our seed into the warm depths. It was a memory to quickly made. As I leaned out of breath against Rose, I watched as the young man rolled off of his satiated counterpart only to be jumped on by another gal who was apparently driving by and witnessed the final stages of his performance. She dove head first onto his deflating member fully clothed, nursing its length into her throat while her cheeks collapsed and expanded with a fervent oral massage. Kind of reminded me of a bull frog.

Rose slowly straightened up; visibly exhausted and trembling with post orgasmic tremors. Slowly her eyes met mine as she whispered "Thanks, I needed that." Although it wasn't our first time, nor most certainly our last; it certainly was one of the best exchanges we'd shared. I smiled and kissed her sweaty forehead, then escorted her back to her apartment gingerly as the sounds of the stud in the grass began working over his newest consort begin to fill the air. He better slow down or he'll likely go blind, or sterile, or grow warts.

As I showered, I heard the newsman reporting on a new law before the Senate barring sex in cars while the engine is on. Too bad there have to be so many laws for common sense! As the hot water restored my vitality, I began to reflect on how it all began in a quiet diner not so long ago.

It began several months after my beloved wife of forty years succumbed to cancer. She left quickly and gracefully like a sweet summer breeze leaving my two boys and myself alone. The boys left shortly thereafter to find themselves, and I was left with my paltry retirement, mortgage and backpack full of memories. Amidst my loneliness, I turned to my old friend Max who owned a small diner that he'd built from nothing. He was a happy man despite losing his wife in a car accident. I had frequented his cafe for years for conversation and the greasy gut bombs that my wife never allowed me to eat; sneaking them home to devour during football games while she was away. Eventually I sold the house full of memories at a loss, and moved into an apartment in town to await my own demise.

One particular rainy afternoon when the loneliness was becoming overwhelming, I donned my rain gear and took a stroll over to the café. As always, Max was there with a hot cup of coffee and smile that melted away the grief within moments.

'What's news Max'" I queried after taking a seat at the otherwise empty counter.

"Some loony goth girl is a might early for Halloween," he gestured over to the corner booth where a slight figure in a hooded shroud sat staring at the TV screen. "She's had six of my burgers and has a wad of bills that would make the IRS have an orgasm! She's just sitting there, staring at the tube and stuffing burgers."

"That ain't right Max – I might understand if she was watching a soap opera but six of your burgers might be something for Ripley's to check out."

"You got a point there. Maybe I better call the boys in the white shirts."

"Standby Max, I'll try to find out what's going on in her tree; but if I give the signal, make the call." I slid off the upholstered stool and collected my thoughts before swaggering over to her. One nice thing about being retired, you can talk to most anyone without them feeling threatened. Most times they don't listen anyway.

"Mind if I join you," I asked tentatively. A thin pale face turned slowly towards me; her eyes, black as coal as they locked onto mine emotionlessly.

"I'm afraid that is not possible," She murmured. Her features were rather delicate and her voice was as a fine brandy. "You may sit there," she gestured to the bench across the table from where she sat.