Intro: The exploits of a man whose given name fit him perfectly, Randy, and he certainly was that. He was a high-school history teacher and coach until he hit the lottery and retired early at 52. While he was not averse to returning flirtatious quips from the girls in his classes, he did avoid giving in to the urge, telling the more enticing of them to, "come see me after you graduate." Some did, but these stories deal with his life after hitting it big and building two houses; one along a river bluff 45 miles inland from the Atlantic Ocean and another on a secluded portion of the Northern Outer Banks, both equipped with playrooms. And he still had over a hundred million to spare. All characters are 18+ years of age. All stories can stand alone, but reading the series gives added insights and descriptions as it unfolds.
Synopsis: One-night stand turns to play time weekend.
May, 2017 -- OBX house
Halley had called at the end of April, distressed that her parents told her that they couldn't afford to pay for as much of her college as before. The upshot was that she was going to have to stay in Savannah all summer working two jobs to make ends meet with her education.
The thought of offering again to help her flashed in Randy's mind, but she cut him off forcefully before he even broached the subject.
"And I know what you're thinking. Nope. Don't even start. I'm doing this on my own, even if it limits our time together," and he had left it there. He respected her for her determination and not wanting to take out loans, was proud of her for it. But the truth be told, he missed her. He missed fucking her too, but mainly he missed Halley (see previous stories).
As a result, Randy felt the need for rejuvenation and travelled to his beach house on the Outer Banks to spend the month of May. He spent the first few days going over the house and cleaning it, as well as setting up the video recording system so that he could start it with a remote that he put on his keychain. Anything to occupy his mind.
Finally, he decided to venture out for his supper after a week of scrubbing floors, shampooing carpets, checking various systems, long walks on the beach and watching the setting sun play with the colors of the ocean as it set in the western sky behind his house.
His favorite casual spot was a pizza joint that had a bar in the little hamlet of Corolla. Sam was the roughly 75-year-old bartender whom Randy had befriended. Although Sam knew little about him other than disparate thoughts on sports or politics shared over the oaken bar, they had a genial relationship and Randy respected the old man, even though he would occasionally tease him unmercifully. Sam, in return, suspected Randy had money and lots of it. Sam also suspected that Randy would occasionally pick up women and knew of at least one young lady in the bar about eight months earlier. The older man still wondered about it occasionally.
It was a Thursday night, one week after his arrival, and Randy was sitting at his usual table eating a BBQ chicken pizza with red onions when Sam came by to see if he needed a refill on his sweet tea. After he had topped off the red plastic glass, he lingered and Randy asked him, "Something on your mind Sam?"
"Huh? Oh, no, no." but he did not move away, still lost in thought as his mouth worked his dentures.
Randy set down a half-eaten slice, "Have a seat Sam and get it off your chest."
Sam sat with the tired thump of his seven-plus decades and looked off into the distance toward the front door for almost a minute before he ventured into what he wanted to know. "Last fall, that high-dollar working gal from New York that was in here."
The man who was 20-plus years his junior interrupted him, "You mean the one in the blue mini dress that left with me and you didn't see her again?"
"Yep, that'd be the one."
"I took her home and fucked her all weekend."
The old man slowly turned his eyes to Randy, and licked his lips, then looked off again and thought some more before asking, "How was she?"
"Sam, she was excellent. She liked it in the ass," and he picked up the unfinished slice and took another bite.
Sam ventured further, "Do you do that a lot?
Randy chewed and regarded him, "Fuck women in the ass?"
"Ah, no. Pick them up in bars?"
Randy continued to chew, but never took his eyes from across the room while answering, "No, not a lot. Sometimes I pick them up in restaurants, or grocery stores, wherever the opportunity presents itself. And the answer to fucking them in the ass is that I do it every chance I get." and Sam shook his head and closed his eyes.
"I'm picking on you Sam. To answer your question, 'a lot' is a relative phrase. What is a lot to you, might not be a lot to me," and Randy laughed as Sam's eyes darted while he attempted to keep up.
"If I pick up a woman, there must be something there to interest me. Some spark, some aura. I pass on a lot more than I take, but I tell you what. Don't look over there right now, just look at me," and Randy waited for Sam's eyes to land on his.
"There's a brunette across the room in her mid-to-late 30s. She's eating alone. Wearing shorts and a beige tank top and has a real nice tan. When you get up and go back to the bar you can get a look at 'er. Before the weekend is out, I'm gonna tap that."
Sam's eyes bugged out, but he did not respond. He worked his dentures some more, nodded, then rose and returned to the bar. He pointedly looked across the room as he went. Indeed, there was a woman whose hair was a mix of the browns you found on pecan shells. She was about 5'6" and 130 pounds and indeed had a deep tan. When she caught Sam staring at her, his mouth open, she smiled at him. The elderly man went behind the old-style bar with the shiny brass railings and blushed, the red of his face highlighting his snow-white hair.
Later, when Randy had finished eating, he went to the bar to pay for the meal. "What's the damage Sam?" and when told he asked, "and how much for the lady's meal?" Sam did a slow doubletake but said nothing, checked the ticket and relayed the cost. Randy paid for both meals and told him, "If she asks, tell her I'll be back again tomorrow night about six." He winked at Sam and turned to leave, pointedly looking at the woman to his right and nodding at her as he left.
As Randy's truck was headed north, he thought about the 36B-32-36 body that obviously lifted weights, and was cut nicely for a woman nearing middle age. He wondered what she looked like naked.
Twenty minutes later the woman approached the bar to settle her check and Sam cleared his throat before telling her, "No charge, bill's already been taken care of ma'am."
"What? By who?" she asked
"The gentleman with the shaved head who left a little while ago paid for your meal ma'am."
She made a face and cocked her head, "Really? Well, that was nice of him," and she paused for a moment, "Did he leave his name?"
Sam stuttered, "Well, ah, yeah, kinda. His name is Randy. He eats here a lot when he's on the island; said to tell you he'd be here tomorrow night at six."
She smiled, "He did, did he? Well then, maybe I'll be seeing you again tomorrow night. Thank you, sir," and she wheeled on a sandaled foot and left with a bounce in her step.
She got in her car and paused before starting it, taking a deep breath, and saying to herself, "Gentleman with the shaved head, huh. Must have been the older guy with the sexy smile. Well Katie, looks like you might have yourself a date," and she left the unpaved lot slinging gravel.
*
Randy was dressed in khakis and an untucked black, silk shirt when he walked in on Friday at six. The brunette was seated at his usual table, already drinking a beer. He walked over and she looked at him as she was sipping and quickly put down her mug, swallowed and grinned.
"I'm already one ahead of you, this is my second. Sam said I should sit here. I understand that I have you to thank for my dinner last night," and she held out a hand, "Thank you, my name is Katie."
Randy introduced himself as he shook and noticed her firm grip, "Nice to meet you Katie and you're welcome," and then he held up a finger. "Give me a sec, I'll be right back."
She watched as he casually walked over to the silent jukebox in the near, rear corner where the doorway to the kitchen was located. His deck shoes made no sound and she noticed he wore no socks. He deposited some coins and made a few selections. She admired the curve of his ass as he bent over the glass and as the first song started, she all but made up her mind. The outline of a firearm under his shirt at the small of his back did not deter her, she owned two herself, and unless he turned out to be a raging nutjob she was taking him somewhere and fucking him, maybe even in the parking lot.
Randy returned and sat in his usual seat with his back to the wall. As he scooted his chair in to the table, the first song started and the Bellamy Brothers classic tribute to double entendre filled the bar.
'If I said you had a beautiful body would you hold It against me?'
She smiled as she listened and then spoke again, "I figured tonight was my treat."
Randy nodded, "Okay, if you insist, but I," and she interrupted him firmly.
"I do."
Randy dipped his head and chuckled, "Alright. Now that that's settled, I guess we should order. Since you're paying, what would you like to treat me to?" and winked at her.
She smiled and let the latter go for the moment, "Per your friend the bartender, you seem to come here a lot, what would you suggest?" and she drank again from her mug.
"Pizza?" he offered as he lifted his palms and looked around the place in sarcasm.
"Okay, I asked for that," and she shook her head and grinned again. "I meant what KIND of pizza. How about one with all the meats. I like meat, the more meat, the better I like it," and he could tell she was proud of herself for the insinuation as she grinned tauntingly at him. He noticed the small lines of age and sun that had just started to appear in her face. They did not intrude on her beauty, they only enhanced it.
Randy nodded, "We'll get along just fine then," and he called for the waitress.
They spent the interim getting to know something of one another, flirting along the way, but the flirting had an edge to it. She was assertive and blunt, and he liked it. If the night turned out as he anticipated, he was going to have fun with her.
Katie was from Tennessee and worked as a field producer at a local television station. She was 39, on the Outer Banks for vacation and pronounced herself single and unattached. She rode a Harley to work and liked to lift weights, which was obvious as her short, jean skirt and black, off-the-shoulder cropped top revealed. She wore strapped leather sandals and a simple gold chain around her neck. As she talked, Randy noticed her pierced tongue. No tattoos were visible.
When the food arrived, she ordered a third beer and the conversation slowed as they ate. Halfway through the pie, she told him, "Nice touch with the music, I particularly liked the first song."
