{If you are looking for some hot sex, there ain't any to speak of in this story. It's just a collection of all of the crap happening in this old man's life recently, not all of it good. Now if I got my way, it could have been good but life isn't like that. So, you have been warned.
Plus, this one is a bit sad, I think so anyway, if you are not ready for an old man baring his soul, go read something else.
Today is the 10th of November, I wrote things down as they are happening, it might read a little disjointed since it all began months ago.}
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The run up interstate 5 in Oregon is a rather straight shot once we get past the coast to the valley highway. There are sections there on highway 20 where the tail lights you are following are probably your own. My truck handles like a dream, so I was taking 30 MPH turns at 60. I had just 3 1/2 hours to make the 3 hour run to the airport to catch my flight, so I had my big Dodge Ram set on 78 MPH as soon as I hit the interstate.
Cops don't even notice 78 on the freeway, they do begin to pay attention at anything over 80. But, I never saw a cop the entire trip, and I was getting passed quite a bit so I let the speed slip up to the left lane traffic, in the 85 range most of the time, touched 90 and eased off a few times. I was 45 minutes early when I walked up to the counter at the airport. I would have been earlier except for cross town traffic and stop lights. I learned long ago to not take the 405 freeway to the airport, it's slower usually than just crossing town.
The plane was right on time, the female Captain stood there as we loaded. After listening to that lady Captain on YouTube bring her plane home following an engine explosion, perfectly calm the entire time, female captains don't bother me one bit.
I suppose that is sexist to even say, isn't it? Back when I was a very young man, women mostly had the things they did, men had the things they handled. Women were frail and sort of helpless, we men needed to protect them.
The world has changed a lot since then, and even a stubborn old coot like me has learned that women can handle any stresses men can, sometimes even better.
The hard part for we men is trying to figure the women out.
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"Boston, and step on it please." I wisecracked to the pilot as she greeted us with smiles.
"I think it's Cincinnati, sir." She said right back with a grin. We both laughed.
"How far is Boston from Ohio?" I asked, grinning right back.
"We are going to Kentucky." She picked up on my joking manner instantly. I guess I blinked a couple of times, she just laughed. It took me awhile, turns out that the Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky airport is not in Ohio.
OK. I didn't know that, and I suspect that is a standing joke by the pilot, and the crew because one of the stewardesses started out telling us that we would enjoy our flight to Kentucky which created an instant fuss. There were some laughs as she went through her routine, it was hilarious.
At one point she mentioned that in the event of a water landing, we should take a deep breath and stop screaming, which got laughs from the passengers. Looking out the window, things appear rather brown down there, not much water.
Once in the air, and settled in, I opened my laptop. I normally use my desktop PC when I pretend to write, so dealing with the laptop is awkward.
There was a nice lady sitting next to me, maybe 35-40 or so, considering what I am typically writing I turned a little bit to hide the screen, but she saw it anyway. She looked at me, smiled, but didn't say anything right away.
I wasn't online, but when the page comes up it says Literotica right there in the upper left hand corner.
"My husband and I like that website, are you one of the authors?" She asked me after a few minutes. Big smile, she was looking right at me. OK, no reason to be shy, I guess. Then she asked me my user name, I told her. Next thing I knew she had her cell phone out, and was reading?
How people can actually read on one of those tiny cell phone things is beyond me, but clearly she could. Plus they work while in the air going lord knows how fast.
OK, none of you will believe this one either, but I rode on an airplane all the way to Cincinnati with a lady who sat next to me, reading some of my naughty stories. Her name was Elizabeth, "Ellie" for short is what she told me.
At one point she giggled and asked me how much of it was true, I told her probably more than half, at least in the recent ones. We ended up talking off and on most of the trip, so I didn't get a hell of a lot of writing done. She even seemed to be mildly flirting, but maybe that is just in my old head.
At one point she asked me if I was really 75 years old, I nodded.
"Wow. I would never have guessed." She said, which made me feel good.
"Good luck in Boston.. Dan!" She told me as we went our separate ways. I nodded. A little bit weird, sitting next to a total stranger on an airplane who is reading what you have written about some rather personal things is.. well.. weird.
At one point I had to adjust my laptop to cover my reaction to her, but I think she knew and smirked. Talking about stories about sex with a total stranger on an airplane? Interesting, I told her lots of stuff, we were sort of flirting.
I think so, anyway.
That was just the beginning of what was a strange trip.
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I could see a fairly large muddy looking river out the window as we came into Cincinnati, the rest was buildings as far as the eye could see. The airport is in some city called Hebron but there didn't seem to be any open area in between, streets and buildings just go on and on.
I was already getting uncomfortable, so I could just imagine what Boston would be like.
Once inside the airport, I looked around. The place was clean and neat, high ceilings with large beams, lots of glass. My layover was four hours, so I found a Chick-fil-a and ate. Then to the boarding area, sit and wait. The very first airplane ride I was ever on popped into my head, I wrote a tale about that, called "A flow of souls". That was about back when I went into the Navy over 50 years ago. Partly true, partly fantasy.
At the next stop, it was unload and reload, I didn't even get off the plane. Then finally, I looked out the window, there was a river, a harbor, the Ocean? I do have to admit it didn't look all that bad from way up in the sky.
An ocean?? I was already regretting not bring my fishing pole.
The landing, the airport, the taxi ride, all uneventful. Streets, buildings, people, noise. The driver pulled up in front of the apartment building, I had already seen it from the Google street view. Inside was a row of buttons, I could see some double doors that led to a larger room. I pushed the top button, in a few seconds I heard Debra's voice.
"Yes?"
"You wanted me here, so I am here." I told her.
"Danny! Oh! Oh my God! You are here. When did you..?" Then she hesitated.
"Just a moment, I will be right down." I started to tell her to just buzz me in and I would come up, but she had already gone.
It was a few minutes, she came around the corner and opened the doors, gave me a huge hug. That felt good, I had been really missing that part since it now had been nearly a full six weeks since I had seen her. She was wearing a skirt and blouse, mini heels. I noticed her hair was longer and lighter.
We rode up in the elevator, she was touching me like she wasn't sure I was real.
"You put on some weight." She mentioned at one point. That part was true, I weighed 186 the last time I checked, probably that Apple pie old lady Baxter made and the fact that I had not been to the gym even once since Debra went to Boston. Six pounds shows up on a man, plus I probably found a couple more somewhere, and Debra being a Doctor of course would not miss that.
Well, that and if I have no one to cook for I tend to get lazy and in a hurry, so there were some pizzas and hamburgers with fries mixed in there. Quite a few bags of low salt potato chips, too, which if Debra knew would get me ragged on.
The apartment was.. I guess old looking would be the word? Heavy on woodwork, and sort of empty, and very open. I would call it a storeroom.
A very large storeroom, like the entire upper floor of a 40 plus unit apartment building.
"Lots of room." I mentioned.
"Yes, now. You would not have believed what it looked like when I first got here, it was almost completely full." She was still clinging to me. She led me into the kitchen, which was more of a nook than a kitchen. There was a small counter top stove, no oven, a medium size refrigerator, a small sink and some counter space in what was just an alcove. The place looked.. strange?
"This used to be a storage area for the apartments, Mom had some appliances brought in to make it livable." Debra told me, reading my mind. Odd, her Mother apparently was easily worth a few million dollars, yet she chose to live in a place like this? It really did appear to be exactly what it was, a large storage room.
But then, people who end up rich don't waste money on the way up.
The living room area was just a space on one end of what was a very open room, there was a couch and a couple of recliners so we went over there. That was when I realized, I smelled cigarette smoke?
Debra does not smoke. I looked at a center table, there sat a lighter. Her eyes followed mine, she blushed?
"One of the workers, having to go downstairs and outside is too time consuming.." She said, getting up. She picked up the lighter, went over to some desks and dropped in in the top drawer.
I sat there thinking, I was seeing reactions that did not seem normal. If Debra caught me smoking inside the house, she would have a conniption fit, yet someone had been, right here in her apartment and she didn't react.
She was dressed in a skirt and blouse I had never seen before. That wasn't that big of a deal except at home she either had on her nurse's smock, or she put on slacks. The only time I ever saw her in a dress was when we went out. Even more, she had on short heels, at home she wore comfortable shoes all of the time. I don't think she even owned a set of heels back home.
"Where is the bathroom?" I asked, I needed to take a leak. She pointed to a door, there were two of them side by side about 10 feet apart.
"That one is the bedroom." She told me, then pointed to the other door.
"This place is barely functional as an apartment." I said.
"It will be better when the workers get it finished. I am putting up some walls, adding two bedrooms, a living area, and expanding the kitchen and dining area." I could see different materials stacked around, obvious signs of someone working.
"The center counter will go right there, it will have drawers for all of the utensils." She added. It hit me that I would have done the floor first, then the counter after, but oh well.
I nodded, got up to go use the bathroom. It was clear the bathroom was going to need some work, too, it was best described as.. adequate.
