This is an "edited" version of the very first story I submitted to Literotica. If you compare the dates, it may not appear to be the first, but I submitted two stories just one day apart and both were rejected for the same reason; two speakers (or quotes) in the same paragraph. When I edited them and resubmitted, for some reason "Tale of Two Strippers" was posted before this one.
With 53,000 reader viewings, numerous critiques and comments by readers and other writers as well as countless re-reads and astonishments at mistakes, I just cannot believe I made, I decided the story deserved a little "clean up!" Now I know, this becomes an open invitation for you to point out other and additional mistakes I failed to address. Please proceed! I have a relative thick skin in these matters and if required, I will edit and resubmit once again.
This is a true story of something that happened just before by 55
th
birthday. Maybe if not for the age difference, the event would be commonplace for many younger men, but for me it was a true serendipitous experience. Obviously, the age difference is what prompted me to place it in the "Mature" category.
First a little background about me. I was born and raised in a small community in the northern portion of a gulf coast state. My parents, though honest and hard working were uneducated, naive and their social skills were more along the lines of the Beverly Hillbillies than Hugh Hefner. I was raised as an only child and attended a very small public school where all twelve grades were in the same building and sometimes two grades were in the same room.
When I was in Jr. High, we moved into a huge town of 8,000 people and moved into a rent house much larger than the small 3 room home where I had always lived. In one fell swoop, we had our first indoor plumbing, first television set and first telephone. I was enrolled into a school where the 7
th
grade took up several classrooms. I had to take my text books from one class to another and actually store them in a locker when not in use. I was required to keep school papers in a notebook for the first time and was required to make corrections for mistakes on the back side of the previous page. All of this (and I mean everything named in this paragraph) was brand new to me and needless to say, I was overwhelmed. Looking back, I really wish some of my teachers would have recognized I was overwhelmed by this tremendous change in my life; Instead of just considering me either dumb or lazy.
My parents were so poor that my mother actually made some of my shirts. She knew nothing about style and my dress pattern showed it horribly. When Dolly Pardon sang "Coat of many colors" I knew exactly what she was referring to. Kids at 12 & 13 years old can be cruel and insensitive; therefore I was the butt of numerous jokes and quickly developed an inferiority complex that was difficult to suppress for a really long time.
I dated very little during high school, partly because of the lack of a car, but mostly because of the lack of confidence. By the time I was a senior in high school, I was able to buy my own car. Although it was 10 years old, the 56 Chevy was popular among car junkies and my mechanical ability and knowledge gained from working at the local Chevrolet dealership part time, generated an acceptance never before experienced.
I suddenly found myself being sought out by popular teenagers and even some guys in their 20s wanting advice for mechanical questions or wanting me to work on their cars. Where popular boys hang out, you will also find popular and good looking girls. In mixed groups or with "the guys," my acceptance and abilities put me in the lead roll many times, but when one-on-one with the girls, my lack of confidence would hinder my ability to do much more than stutter and carry on a lame conversation. Not many girls were interested in which carburetor/manifold combination worked best on the 327 Chevy or where to locate a good 4 speed transmission along with the proper clutch and bell-housing.
I finally started dating a pretty girl four years younger than myself and we married soon after she graduated high school. We had one daughter and ended up divorcing after almost 18 years of marriage. I would spend more time describing my first marriage and might in another story, but it has very little contribution to this one.
I was single for four years and spent much of that time traveling in my business, which was by that time, commercial construction management. My travels literally took me coast to coast and border to border. This provided some experiences I must share in other stories, but I will try to not get sidetracked here.
Then I moved back to my home state and met a girl, 22 years my junior. After a whirlwind affair like nothing I had ever imagined, we marred when I was 43 and she was 21. We stayed married for 11 years and I must say, most of the inexperience and naivety that remained from my youth disappeared. From the very first night we were together, we experienced the kind of sex you read about in these stories. She was not shy and would express her wants and desires at some of the most surprising times and to almost anyone at anytime. She was multi-orgasmic and a screamer. Blowjobs while driving, sex in public places like grocery store or night club parking lots or outdoors where we could be caught was not at all out of the ordinary. Later when we had a home with a pool, midnight skinny dipping and sex in the lighted pool or attached spa was commonplace.
By that time we were living in a major metropolitan area still in the same gulf coast state. Like with my first marriage, I could spend a lot of time and write pages about this marriage, but it also has little contribution to this story other than erasing my naivety. The marriage did produce two beautiful daughters. The first one was planned and was born when I was 48. The second one was not planned, at least not on my part, but now I would not trade her for anything in the world. She was born when I was 51 and there is always some conversation with people I see for the first time, about whether the girls are my daughters or my granddaughters.
When this wife and I separated, I moved into an apartment in a pretty nice part of town, not the most expensive but nothing to be ashamed of either. I moved on Saturday and as soon as I got everything moved inside, I went to check out the mailboxes, pool, laundry room, vending machines, etc.
As I walked toward the mailboxes, someone called out to me and as I turned around was met face to face, but separated by several feet, with a young lady who obviously had some difficulty in standing and walking. She was half dragging a laundry bag and asked if I knew if there was a laundry on the premises.
Because I had just seen it, I confirmed there was indeed a laundry and asked if she needed help getting her bag there indicating her lame foot or ankle.
She accepted my help and said she had turned her ankle the night before. She indicated a red Pontiac Sunfire with a space-saver spare on the right rear and told me she had a flat and turned her ankle while changing her tire. She asked me if I knew anything about cars.
I said I knew some, but didn't really elaborate.
She limped toward the car's hatch back and opened it to show me a full size tire with a badly bent rim. She wanted to know if the wheel could be repaired.
I said I thought it was beyond repair and would need to be replaced.
