{This doesn't fit in any category, most of what I write doesn't seem to. So, since my wife Debs is involved, "loving wives" it is.
Is there any truth to this? You figure that out, I did ask Sherry if I could write it and she laughed and told me "Sure, as long as you don't mention my real name."
So. "Sherry" it is. I would change Debra's and my own name also but too late now I guess.}
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"Well, just crap!" I told my wife Debra as soon as July left.
Debs already knew, so she knew what I was unhappy about.
I better go back a bit here. My wife Debra is a Registered Nurse Practitioner, she more or less runs the local health clinic everyone in our tiny coastal town goes to.
The clinic specializes in Geriatrics, but they see everyone except for kids. By everyone, I do mean everyone, too, because the next clinic available is a 65 mile drive up the coast.
That is a nasty drive, too, at night the tail lights you are following are your own.
Anyway, my wife Debs is best described as liberal, I will say here that if every man had a wife like mine the divorce rate would be zero.
To Debra, life is about having fun and enjoying it, one of her delights is figuring out some way to make my now 69 year old body act like it's 25 again and she gets damned close to that regular as clockwork.
With her having almost no inhibitions, it does not bother her one bit that July does lots of things way beyond the norm of the medical field, to her that is not only fun, pleasure being a part of life, but also helpful to old men like me.
And she loves me, that is obvious.
A few times I did question her about what goes on down at her clinic, her answer has always been the same.
"If we don't do SOMETHING, you old farts will sit at home and die!" She says, usually with a titter.
"Sexuality is a part of life!" Is her other regular comment. I am fairly sure that her antics in the medical office really has resulted in her getting a client into her office that otherwise would not even go.
More than once that means she catches something else going on, and she extends a life now and then.
Like the lump the size of an Acorn she found in Henry Dahl's left testicle, the one he thought was a cyst and had been trying to pop? She ordered him to a Urologist, where they removed that and found it was not benign.
Old Henry Dahl lost all of his hair over the next few months but he still drives that huge Garbage truck.
That one I know about because some flowers arrived one day, expensive ones. I asked Debs what all of that was about, she told me about Henry.
"But the other one still works just fine, I saw his wife Harriet a couple of weeks ago and she told me!" Debs grinned at me.
Debra isn't supposed to talk about what all happens in her clinic but she does. She knows I can keep my mouth shut.
So I know she does things like sit in her little chair and inspect her customer's stuff, which is a good part of why the waiting room is nearly always full of white haired old guys like me.
Every single one is a story.
Early on I have to say I didn't believe it all, but now I do.
Combine that with her loving me totally and completely and that is my Debs. Like I said, if you women want to eliminate the divorce rate, be more like Debra. But sadly, I have never known anyone with an attitude like hers.
In the process of learning how she is, it changed me too.
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How in the hell did I manage to catch a female like this, one that loves me totally and completely?
Well, when we met she made me take off my pants and underwear, grabbed my wienie and inspected it stem to stern.
"Drop your pants, I want to look at your penis." Was word for word what she said that day.
I did, and she did.
Then she turned me over and probed me. That was not the typical in and back out, strip off the glove and say "everything appears OK" like I have had Doctors do before with great reluctance.
Nope. She was in there for a solid two-three minutes, at first I had the usual revulsion at having that procedure done, then that changed into something else entirely.
Up it came, I almost made a mess. Hell, I was beginning to wonder if this was what it was like to be gay?
I really did my very best to not have a reaction and failed rather miserably. That didn't faze her one bit, in fact it became quite clear that she enjoyed that.
"Hmmmm. Feels a little puffy in there, but I see you react nicely." She stripped off the glove, handed me a little cup.
Then down the hall she sent me to a tiny room, sperm sample, she told me. It's a good thing she did say that or she would have gotten a cup of something else.
I admit that embarrassed the hell out of me also, so much so that it couldn't be done. Think about that, a 65 year old sitting in a tiny little room trying to jack off into a paper cup while outside there are a bunch of people, all strangers?
Can't be done.
There was a knock after perhaps ten minutes, in pops Jennifer, one of the other nurses on staff. She grabbed me with a latex glove covered hand, had the sample and was back out the door before I could do anything and I have no idea at all how she did that so fast.
Then it was back down the hall where Debra discussed my Prostate and how that affected erections and all of that, she might as well have been talking about baking a cake.
She probably had done that to a couple of thousand other men, I was the guy that won the lottery there.
For some reason she liked me and decided to get me.
Why I am not completely sure, I do know she also found my stories and somehow figured out it was me writing them.
Mine I think are tame compared to most. I guess I also tend to describe things around, real stuff.
What are the odds, anyway? I mean I do describe my big Dodge truck, everyone sees me headed for the jetty to go fishing, the locals know about the "best yard" contest and the fat ass Sea Lions that get in the way and won't move and the stupid city council that wants to spend 300 grand to build them a dock to lay on?
Fucking Sea Lions have been laying on rocks for hundreds of thousands of years and we have to spend taxpayer dollars to build them a fucking dock?
It's a wonder they don't include pillows for them.
Yea, anyway, one could add two and two together and come up with just maybe the guy that writes that crap is white haired old me?
I do know Debra reads erotic stories herself, usually giggling but every once in awhile she will read one that sets her off.
Anyway, on another office visit I got the same procedure except no sperm sample this time. She read the report on that, I didn't know medical even did reports on that. That was also the day I got the "Sexuality is a normal and healthy part of life." line for the first time.
"You don't have a partner, do you?" Debra asked me.
"No, not since my wife Dotty passed away."
"I see. You should have one, you know." She grinned at me.
"Hell, I am 65 years old, nobody is interested in someone like me." I told her.
"Oh, don't be too sure. With a pretty cock like yours, I would think most women would be interested." She smirked.
That's what this lady Doctor sat in the room with me and said.
"Pretty cock like yours.".....???
Nobody ever believes me whan I mention that, so usually I don't.
Then the conversation changed and got one hell of a lot more personal.
Next thing I knew we were out on a date and right behind that she was checking out my sexual prowess. We got to her house and Debs took my hand and led me inside, we kissed a few times and it was clear quickly she wanted to have some sex.
So we did, and man, do I mean we did! My life had gotten to the point where even at home I only got about half way hard during my private moments.
Debra turned me into the man of steel. Not just once, but twice and a third time I got perhaps 75% there.
By morning there was no doubt at all, Debra had captured me and I belonged to her.
Things like that just do not happen to men in their sixties, but it did to me. Debra just decided and she went for it. If you knew her, you would understand, because if she wants something, she gets it.
It had been maybe a decade for me since my wife Dotty passed, and close to that for Debs. No sex for me at all during that time, same for Debs except for once. I know she is not lying to me about that, either, she has no reason to.
Like I said, if all women were like my Debra, no one would ever get divorced.
Four years now, hardly a week goes by that there isn't some surprise. For some crazy reason, just the fact that Debra is around seems to attract what I call incidents.
No panties on under Deb's skirt down in Reno, then sitting there sewing up a top with her boobs bare, two guys across the way watching.
A maid caught us screwing like kids on the carpet in our hotel room. That was just our honeymoon. I wrote and posted some of it here.
Rambling again, huh? Oh well.
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Anyway, I was unhappy. Our friend July who drops by maybe twice a month to give us massages was quitting.
July gives dandy massages, she is not only wonderful at it, she is uninhibited too and can do anything she wants to since she is a Registered Nurse herself.
Which is cool, she can touch anything she wants to, do about anything she wants to and there is nothing the blue noses at the Oregon Massage board can do about it.
Yep, Registered Nurse. Well, she used to be, anyway.
I found out why she not only worked at the clinic up the coast as a nurse but went out and gave massages in the evenings.
She was using the extra money for night school.
Now she had her PHD, our friend July was a full fledged Doctor! It took her over a decade to get her degree, and guess what?
July was the new administrator of the very clinic she used to be just a Nurse at? The one 65 miles away up the coast.
Which meant no more massages for Debs and I.
OK. So I was pouting.
"Sorry, honey. Maybe we can find someone else?" Debs patted me on the shoulder.
