{Things happen sometimes when a person gets older and I guess I am getting older. Anyway, the timeline on this piece is messed up, but it's as close as I can get because it's messed up for me, too.}
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There is a moment between full sleep and being aware when dreams come. In that moment, the body can be frozen, unable to move, to even speak.
Those kinds of dreams often stick with a person, remembered. Then comes the full awareness, the point of realization that it was only a dream, but the delicious kind.
The kind a person wants to stay in, continue.
Someone touching, sensuous, faceless, intimate.
The eyes squeeze shut tightly, trying to recapture the moment.
I was having one, my body felt frozen, lost in that inability to move. Concentrating, I tried for a moment to call out but there was no sound. I took a deep breath, forced myself to relax as completely as I could.
Then I felt one finger respond. Sensation, sweet sensation flooded over me.
I reached out, touching the side of the soft body next to me in the bed.
My wife, Debra.
"What, honey?" She stirred, also still mostly in her own world of sleep.
"Nothing, babe. I was just having a dream I guess."
Debs looked at me and smiled.
"Good one, I hope?"
"Yea, I guess. Sort of weird, it was like I was helpless, I couldn't move."
"REM sleep, honey. It happens sometimes to everybody."
Debs should know, after all, she is a Registered Nurse. I rolled over and sat for a moment on the edge of the bed, then stood up.
"Wow, that must have been a dandy dream!" Debs told me with a giggle.
I looked down, I was fully erect, as erect as my now 69 year old body can get.
That embarrassed me for some crazy reason, why I would get a full blush going is beyond me. Debs is my wife, has been for almost four long years.
She has seen my dick hard before, in fact, she often goes to great lengths to see to it that it is.
Morning wood is a sort of rare thing for me, though. What in the hell caused that?
Oh, yea. The dream.
"Come back to bed, Danny. It looks like I need to give you a hand!" Debs was grinning now, she let the covers slip downwards, baring one breast deliberately.
She does things like that all the time, making an intentional act appear to be completely accidental. That has never changed, Debs goes to great lengths to tease her man.
Knowing very well what buttons to push, knowing everything that gets my old body going.
Almost all of the buttons, anyway.
I got back into bed.
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The flight down was uneventful, the long walk through the terminal in Reno to baggage claim was hard on my old butt cheeks like always.
Debs and I have been in Reno a few times, the aitport is always fairly busy. The first time we did all that walking, then stood and waited for a shuttle.
Now there is a guy in a suit holding a card with our last names on it, and a limosine waiting. Something about those little tracking cards they give out and the fact that we did some pretty good gambling.
We won a bit of money on one of the tips, the Casino hotel wants it back so they treat us nice, meals are signed to our room and the casino host just wipes the slate clean when we leave.
I walk a lot and one would think I would not have any troubles with soreness, but I do. Things creak and groan, but Debs and I both work out at the gym, plus we also do quite a bit of that "best" exercise of all so I suppose I am in far better shape than I could be.
Let's face facts, I am coming up on 69 years old. Way better off than some I suppose, my belly is pretty flat and when Debs wraps her naked jugs aound the old tally whacker, then starts that up and down sliding stuff and slipping her mouth over the end of it on each down stroke?
Yea, you bet it works.
Still, it's a long walk which makes my butt hurt and it popped into my head that I could probably qualify for one of those wheelchairs and someone to push me.
Hell with that, as long as I can put one foot in front of the other I will, by God.
Still, my glutes, they hurt and it's uphill, well, partly.
"Hey, maybe if I drool a little bit and act old I can get one of those?" I told Debs, pointing as another wheelchair went by with some heavy set old lady sitting in it, pushed by some cute thing maybe 19 or 20 years old.
"Walking is good for you." Debs retorted.
Darn.
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The last trip we were in Vegas to buy some product for me to sell. I had found one of those deals a person can't pass up, left over product a warehouse wanted to clear out to make room for some more modern stuff.
There is an advantage in knowing certain people, that can help open doors. Max was one of those people, I suppose we spoke on the phone hundreds of times back in the day when I fixed cars and sold parts. That Vegas trip was the first time we ever met face to face.
I wrote about that earlier, we got naughty. Funny I guess, old folks like us being naughty. But hell, we were in Vegas and what happens in Vegas??
Go there, take along an open mind, you will see. There is something about the place.
This time when I called Max, my sales rep, he told me to meet him in Reno. It seems they also had a warehouse there where they stored dead stock headed for the scrappers.
The price of metal was up pretty good, so the warehouse had moved out all of what was dead on the market stuff to ship out for recycling.
The warehouse sold small parts in case lots, it cost way too much for them to sell and ship things one or two items at a time.
In business, the really big cost in today's world is man power.
I could sell and ship things one set at a time, since I dabbled from our house online at the auction websites.
No overhead, a mean and lean operation. Really lean, I started out trying to raise enough money to buy me a new fishing pole. I dug about everything I had in the garage out and sold it.
That wasn't working very good, that hit me when I sold my $49.00 used fishing pole for 99 cents with free shipping.
So I called Max. Clever of me, I saw some ads run by others and figured maybe if I bought some new stuff instead of used I could make a few bucks.
It had been ages but he remembered me, still gave me some nice discounts. Then he happened to mention the "dead" stock that was going to be sold for scrap metal.
I didn't buy any of that at first, thinking scrap metal was...well...scrap metal.