Diane Takes A Boyfriend

It began with what I thought was a bad cold.

'You should probably go and see Harry,' Diane said. 'Get him to prescribe you some antibiotics.'

'It's just a cold,' I told her. 'It'll be gone in a couple of days. Besides ... do you know how long it takes to get an appointment these days?'

'Well, you could at least go to Boots,' Diane said. 'Talk to one of the pharmacists. Don't waste your time with the girls who sell aftershave. They'll sell you anything as long as it's expensive. Talk to one of the actual pharmacists.'

I did stop in at Boots. 'Bit of a cold,' I told the pharmacist. 'You know how it is. That time of the year, isn't it?'

He half smiled and half frowned. But he didn't seem convinced. 'Just pop into the side room there,' he said. 'I'll quickly check your blood pressure and listen to your chest.'

'It's just a cold,' I told him. 'Take two aspirin and come back in a week if it doesn't clear up. Isn't that the standard advice?'

He checked my blood pressure and listened to my chest. And then he shook his head. 'I think it could be a bit more than a cold,' he said. 'You should make an appointment to see your GP.'

'Now you're starting to sound like my wife,' I told him. 'Besides which, do you know how long it takes to get an appointment these days?'

'Tell them ASAP,' he said.

Later that afternoon I had a coughing fit. So I did make an appointment with Harry.

'Is it urgent?' the woman who answered the phone asked.

'The fellow at Boots seemed to think so,' I told her.

'The pharmacist?'

'Yeah. One of the pharmacists.' (I guess she was worried it was just one of the young ladies selling aftershave.)

For a moment or two, she said nothing. And then she said that Harry could see me at nine-fifteen the following morning.

I quite like Harry. He's old school. Tells it like it is.

'Just a bit of a cold,' I told him when I went to see him the following morning. 'At least that's my opinion. The chap at Boots thought otherwise. But then he's a pharmacist, isn't he? You're the real expert.'

Harry took my blood pressure and listened to my chest and prodded my ankles. And then he nodded. 'I think I'm with your friend at Boots,' he said. 'We'll get you a chest x-ray and a blood panel.' And he printed out the necessary forms.

'Since I'm here,' I said, 'maybe you could also give me a prescription for some little blue pills.'

'Oh?' he said. 'ED problems?'

'After almost fifty years of faithful service, the old fella has been struggling a bit of late.'

'Just a bit? Or more than just a bit?'

'Well ... quite a lot to tell the truth.' And I mimed a limp cock.

'Has it just happened suddenly?' Harry asked.

'Over the past six months or so,' I told him. 'It's just gradually got worse until ... well ....' And I repeated the limp cock mime.

Harry nodded. 'Let's wait for the test results, shall we?'

'Are you telling me that this is not just a cold?'

'I can see why you thought it was,' Harry said. 'But, as I say, let's wait for the test results.'

Diane seemed rather relieved when I told her that Harry was sending me off for the various tests. 'It's probably nothing,' she said. 'But better safe than sorry.'

'While I was there, I talked to him about not being able to get it up,' I said.

She laughed. 'So little blue pills, then?' she said.

'Not sure. He says we should see what the tests say.'

The test results were not good. 'Heart failure,' Harry said. 'We can manage it. But we probably can't cure it. Mind you, there are new drugs turning up all the time. So ... who knows. But you're probably never going to get quite back to your old self. You have had quite a few birthdays.'

'And the little blue pills?' I said.

'Umm ... not at the moment,' Harry said. 'They'll probably just make matters worse.'

'Oh.'

I took the rest of the day off and spent part of the afternoon reading up on heart failure. It was all pretty depressing. And that night I brought Diane up to date on what I had discovered.

'Well, it is what it is,' she said.

I wasn't so sure. 'The problem with my cock may be related,' I told her.

'There are pills,' she said, giving my hand a little squeeze.

'Yeah. I already asked Harry about that. Remember?'

'And?'

I just shook my head.

'We can still have fun,' she said.

Over the next couple of weeks, my cough subsided and my puffy ankles went down quite a bit. But I still felt far from right. And my cock wasn't showing any sign of returning to its old self.

Diane stayed very positive. Fortunately she had always enjoyed a good finger fuck. And I managed to make her come several times with my fingers and a couple of times with my tongue. We also bought a realistic-looking play cock that was about the same shape and size as mine. She quite enjoyed that too. But it wasn't the same.

'It's ... well ... different,' she said. 'But it's fun.'

I'm not sure what first prompted me to think that she should get a boyfriend. When I suggested it to her, she told me not to be so bloody silly. 'Just for the sex,' I told her. 'You and I would still be you and me.' I suggested it again a few days later and, again, she gave it a pretty flat no that time as well. But the third time that I suggested it, she didn't completely reject it out of hand.

'Even if I did consider it, who would want an old bird like me?' she said.

'Old? Sixty's not old,' I told her. 'You're just coming into your prime. And you're an excellent fuck.'

'Thank you,' she said. 'But I think you may be a little biased.'

It was about a week later, when we were sitting on the couch together, having a glass of wine and watching a bit of porn from another era, when Diane asked me how would it work?

'How would it work? How would what work?' I asked.

'Me having ... well ... a round or two with someone else.'

'Oh. Yes. Well ... pretty much the same as having a round or two with me,' I said. 'Except it would be his cock, rather than mine. And, hopefully, his cock would stand to attention when required. It might even salute.'

Diane nodded. 'And where would I find this chap?'

'Good question. I hadn't really thought that far. I'm sure that we have any number of friends who would be happy to fuck you. But I suppose it could get a bit messy if it was one of our friends. Probably better if it was someone at arm's length. And, anyway, you might prefer someone younger. I don't know. There are plenty of men who like the idea of an older woman. From what I read, older women are all the rage.'

'Are you sure you wouldn't mind? It's one thing talking about it, but it's another thing actually doing it.'

'I think I'd be fine,' I said. 'Especially if you told me all about each session afterwards. In fact I think that might be quite arousing.'

Diane nodded again. 'Yes. I suppose it might be quite fun.'

'There's probably a website,' I said.

Diane grinned. 'Oh? Have you been doing your homework?'

'Homework? No. But there's a website for most things,' I told her.

Diane nodded. 'I guess the thing will be finding a safe one. Website, I mean.'

It certainly sounded as if Diane was coming around to the idea. But yes ... she had a point: finding a website might not be that difficult; but finding a safe website ... that might be a bit more of a challenge.

'Do you remember Gloria?' Diane asked. 'That woman I worked with at Samuel Smith's?'

'I think so. Tall woman?'

'Reasonably tall,' she said. 'She had an on-the-side sex partner. Her husband was a mariner. Spent several months at a time at sea. He was the captain of a container ship, I think. They had "an arrangement".' And Diane made bunny ears with her fingers. 'I should ask her how she got started.'

I nodded. It was certainly a thought.

'I'll give her a call,' Diane said. And then she laughed. 'I might have to give some thought to how I ask her. I can't really just pick up the phone and ask: Where did you find your toy boy, can I?'

'I don't see why not,' I said. 'Who knows? Perhaps the shipping company runs some sort of agency.'

I went out to the kitchen to get the wine bottle from the fridge, and when I got back, Diane was searching on the laptop.

'I'm not sure that I'd choose any of this lot,' she said.

'This lot?'

'These chaps.'

'No?'

'Most of them sound like desperate halfwits. Maybe it would be better to choose someone we already know.'

'There's Gordon,' I said. (Gordon was a former neighbour. In his late thirties. And divorced.) 'He's always undressing you with his eyes.'

'We're not looking for a husband,' Diana said. 'I already have you. I'm just looking for an occasional sex partner. A fuck buddy. No strings attached.'

She had a point.

After I had topped up the wine glasses, I had a bit of a fossick through the old DVDs. 'Remember this one?' I said. 'The couple at the flash hotel?'

Diane frowned slightly. And then she smiled. 'Oh, yes. They meet in the bar. Or am I getting mixed up with a different couple?'

'No. That's the one,' I said. And I slipped the DVD into the player and pressed play.

The opening scene was, as Diane had remembered, a bar in a five-star hotel. A woman -- probably in her 50s -- was sitting at the bar with some sort of fancy drink in front of her. She was dressed in an LBD -- a little black dress. And she looked as if she was waiting for someone.

After a little while, a man walked up to the bar. The man was moderately good-looking, neatly dressed, and probably about thirty-five. The woman glanced up from her drink and smiled, but said nothing. And there was certainly nothing that suggested the two people knew each other. They were just two people having a drink.

'Perhaps I'm getting old,' I said. 'But I do like the way that pornos from this era made an effort to tell a story. Diane nodded, hitched up her skirt, and eased down her knickers, as we watched the two 'strangers' slip into gentle conversation before taking the lift up to the woman's sixth-floor room.

'Park Hyatt,' I suddenly said to Diane.

'Park Hyatt?'

'Or ... well ... you know. Any five-star place really. There shouldn't be too much riff-raff at a place like that.'

'You've lost me,' Diane said.

But I soon found her again. Or she found me. 'Somewhere to find your new boyfriend,' I said.

'Oh.' And she nodded.

The following evening, Diane and I got ourselves dressed up and headed downtown for a drink. 'Tonight is just a reccy,' I told Diane. 'Get the lay of the land. Maybe make friends with the bar staff.' It was fun. And it turned out that the barman's name was André.

There were at least half a dozen suitable-looking smartly-dressed men of about the right age who came and went during the time that it took us to enjoy a couple of leisurely drinks.

'That one perhaps?' I said as one particular chap finished off his drink and got up to leave.

'Hmm ... perhaps,' Diane said.

When we got home, I helped her out of her LBD and asked her how her evening had gone.

'It was most enjoyable,' she said.

'And what was your young man's name?'

'Young man?'

'The one who was staring at your legs. Doing his best to look up your skirt.'

'Was he?' And she laughed. 'His name? Gosh, I don't know.'

'You must have thought about it.'

She looked off into the distance for a moment or two, and then she said: 'Steven.'

'Steven?'

'Yes. Steven. Or sometimes Steve -- but I think he prefers to be known as Steven.'

'And this Steven, is he married?'

'I'm not sure. He's very private about his private life. Mind you ... probably better that way.'

I nodded. 'And tell me about Steven's cock,' I said, as I pushed aside the gusset of her sexy knickers and slid a finger into her wet and waiting hole.

'His cock. I'm not really sure that I have given too much thought to his cock.'

'I would have thought that his cock was pretty important -- given that that is essentially what he's there for. You know, to put his cock into your beautiful cunt.'

'Yes. I suppose so,' Diane said.

'And his fingers, of course. And his tongue. But then my fingers and tongue are still in working order. For the moment anyway. It's my cock that has gone on strike.'

Diane nodded. 'I think I'd like him to have just a normal cock. Pretty much like yours, if I'm honest. I don't think I'd want anything too big. No. Just a normal cock. You get more choices with a normal cock. And I do like having my arse fucked from time to time.'

'Yes, you do, don't you? Fortunately I do have two hands,' I said. By then I had two fingers in Diane's cunt and I was starting to work her G-spot. But that still left the fingers of my other hand to begin massaging her rosebud.

A couple of days later, we made a second trip into town. 'Maybe leave your knickers off this time,' I suggested as we dressed in our best. 'I think it might add a little frisson to the occasion.'

André was once again behind the bar. And 'Steven' was there again. What were the chances of that, eh? You can't help a bit of good luck. Diane chose an appropriate -- or should that be inappropriate? -- place to sit. And, once Steven was in position, Diane allowed her knees to spread. Not a lot. Just a little. Just enough to offer something for the observant crotch watcher.

'I shall be waiting at home,' I told her as I finished my drink. 'Waiting to hear all the details of your little adventure with Steven. And I must say I'm rather looking forward to it.'