This a romantic story of a senior citizen who is an author on Literotica, and meets a very attractive, young women, quite by accident, and how their relationship grows.
Hey, I can dream can’t I?
You probably wouldn’t have my stories on here, if I did not.
Despite the way I wrote it, this story is fiction...really FICTION.
But not everything.
I use my Lit. ‘handle’, and the background about me and why I write is mostly true.
My Lit. stories and their characters are true as well.
But my ID is not.
Gotta’ protect the innocent...even if I am not...as my wife would kill me (you know that is a phrase of speech, right?).
Lastly, the lovely young woman in this story is someone I actually did see, and did, indeed, delight in watching.
However, I have never seen her again.
So, if you happen to be reading this and recognize yourself; Thank you.
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“Dawn” of a New Era for an Author
I looked at my margarita. Okay, I had nearly two-thirds of the salt left on the rim, with about half the margarita gone. No running out of salt this time. Half the drink would at least last me until my fajita order arrived.
The outdoor party bar at the Sandalwood restaurant had perimeter seating around it in a rectangular pattern, with the server stations dominating both ends. Water misters did a nice job of keeping the 108°F Arizona heat at a reasonable level at 7 PM. However, one of the bartenders was getting my heat level rising, as she reminded me so much of a young Nancy Sinatra, with big eyes, enhanced with makeup, a similar smile, and all on a lovely face with narrow features.
Yeah, I am old enough to remember Nancy Sinatra, when she released “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’.” And even “Summer Wine”, and “Bang Bang.” The modern music the bar was playing was nothing that I recognized, though their music selection had a good beat.
That beat thumped out loud enough to make conversation difficult for my aging ears, so I often had to ask my ‘Nancy’ bartender to repeat what she had said. That I got to see those large, hazel eyes for a while longer was just a coincidence, you know.
I haven’t followed current music trends. I really have to stop listening to 60’s/70’s retro stations and get up to date, now that I am single again. In my 60’s, and “POOF”, my wife leaves me.
Yes, I have heard it before: How could I be caught so unaware? Well, I had thought about it a lot, and I do mean A LOT, and still I had could not come up with a trail of clues that I should have recognized would lead to the end of a 20+ year relationship.
Frankly, I think she - and she was Sharon - was almost as much blindsided by wanting to leave me, as I was to find out Sharon was leaving. In her typical fashion, when she told me, it was a done deal. No discussion, little explanation, just a jumble of emotions that she was irrevocably forced to act upon.
She left me nearly everything, except half the cash and equities, and two days later she was gone, with four suitcases stuffed, and taxing the Uber driver’s Prius to inhale. Sharon left it for me to file for divorce. She said she would let me know where she was. She didn’t say it would take a year for her to tell me where that was.
When she finally did let me know where, it was in Key West, Florida. The picture she included was of her at Fantasy Fest, fully nude in body paint that took its theme from Superwoman. Sharon never told me who the man in the picture was, dressed as a Viking with a tiny sheepskin loin cloth.
And that was two years ago. The couple of times that I had written to her, asking for some perspective on why we were no more, she had simply replied, “Let it go.” She had always been something of a free spirit, but a very intelligent free spirit, though she never saw the mistake in letting her intelligence be used to twist facts until they supported the first impressions of her intuition. To her, intuition was absolute.
I really had to wonder where this woman had come from, who was clothed only in paint, and partaking in a giant, hedonistic, street party. Actually, it looked like fun, but she had never been that open about her sexuality, and had never shown an interest in anything close to this kind of openness, during our marriage.
And she had never wanted to shave her “personals”, as she called them, and I had never asked her to. Yet, here she was in a photo, with gold stars on painted blue super hero shorts, surrounding her smooth, large, now-blue labia.
Anyway, I did let it go, and she had readily signed the divorce papers. There were no children from our marriage, so the reverberations from our divorce quickly dissipated from the thoughts of family and friends.
I was left with my entire family being my younger brother and our aged parents; the latter were both in a senior care facility for those with mental/memory problems. My brother was just too busy being wrapped up in his role as a successful Chicago business man, with a wife and four kids, to do more than send money for our parents’ support. So, it was left to me to come down from Colorado, usually monthly, to visit with them, and see to the specifics of their care. I guess I could move them to Colorado, but I am hesitant to, as many of what memories they have left, are still tied to the many years they had lived in Arizona.
Being retired makes the travel more manageable. To make life easier, I had purchased a condo down here in the Phoenix metro area, so that I had a base of operations, rather than needing a hotel. It had been furnished with all the furniture my parents no longer needed, and really turned out quite nice, for just a one-bedroom unit.
So, three years into being alone, and nearly two of those officially single, I found myself people watching at a bar, as a pale form of companionship. If asked why I was alone, I always claimed it was research for characters in my stories (for Literotica).
At last, my fajitas arrived. I caught ‘Nancy’s’ lovely eyes and pointed for a second margarita. That narrow ‘Sinatra’ smile confirmed my request.
That is when She arrived with her date. No, not the bartender, nor even my ex-wife, but the “She” that would become such a presence in my life. Not that I had any idea about that at the time.
I was seated at one corner of the bar, and She & her date were seated about 10 feet away, just on the opposite side of the same end of the bar, facing towards me.
