I'm older than most of you reading these stories, but likely just as horny as any of you. I'm 61 years old and still have a fire in the furnace. There's not much snow on the dome, and I've got more hair then most all my friends. I work out regularly and manage to keep a fairly good physique, and can still do a day's work in the fields or woods. And I'm lonely.
In my mind I'm still a young man, still strongly attracted to women of all ages but always seem to drift towards the early 30-somethings to mid 40-somethings. They seem to be more confident about themselves without all the aggression and impatience of the younger girls, and I've grown to appreciate a bit softer lover than the hardbodies of youth, though I find all shapes and ages to be appealing.
Mostly I just work, either at the office or around the house. I love being outdoors and tend to do more outside than inside. My office work then the retreat out to my house in the country doesn't put me into very many places to interact with available women these days, especially women that might be attracted to a gentleman of my vintage.
There are a few divorcees and widows in town that call me from time to time when they are feeling particularly randy, or have a chore needing to be done, but those are random and far spaced events.
A few weeks ago while leaving the grocery store a young girl, a teenager, approached me and asked if I had any housework or yard work that needed to be done. I normally chuckle as those questions and tell the solicitor that I've got all that handled, but this young girl had a look about her that caused me to pause. She looked hungry, tired, and almost desperate.
"Are you on the streets?" I asked. She didn't answer right off, her eyes beginning to wale up, then her head very slightly nodded affirmatively. "You alone?" I figured she wasn't, and when she shook her head "no" I knew that family must surely be hurting. "Tell you what. Go get the rest of your family and meet me over at my pickup truck. Warm baths, clean clothes and dinner tonight at my place. Go." She broke out in a smile and without a word she turned and ran off towards the other stores in the little shopping center.
In just a few minutes I saw the young girl coming back with an older sister and what appeared to be her mother in tow. They all looked hungry, dirty, and tired. As they approached the truck I hopped out and greeted them. "Hi, I'm Mike, and I would be honored if ya'll could join me tonight for dinner at my house, no strings. " I could sense some apprehension, and did what I could to ease their fears, suggesting they could follow me in their car, and told them the clerk in the grocery store had known me for years and could vouch for me.
When they got to my place I knew they might be worried, my house being several miles out of town and with no neighbors anywhere around, but I handed my cell phone to the mother and told her to feel free to call anyone she wished, it was hers for the night. Once inside the house I showed them the spare bedrooms and bathrooms, found them some extra clothing to put on if they wanted to wash and dry theirs while we ate, then left them alone.
By the time I had a meal about ready to put on the table the three of them began filtering into the kitchen. Though I had beer, wine and liquor in the house I never showed it or offered such. They helped set the table and as we sat to have our meal the mother began to talk.
"Mike, you're being so kind to us, and you know nothing about us." She went on to tell of how the man of the family had become a mean drunk, had abused them all, and of how they finally got the nerve to disappear while he was at work one day. They'd been out on the road for a few weeks, living in their car and scraping together whatever they could to eat now and then. They had visited a shelter a couple of times to wash up and get a meal, but those places felt cold to them, like they didn't belong. I found out that the mother's name is Ann and the two girls were Rebecca and Margaret.
