The Latter Years

This is a short story about a cranky old fart and the even older woman who drew him out of his shell. There isn't a lot of sex and it has a relatively happy ending. If you don't like stories such as this, you might want to find another.

*

Casey and I met at the activity center, it was the monthly potluck and cards day. I was at a table by myself messing around on my laptop, there's a big sign on the window that says 'free wi-fi', whoopee, lower my rent instead and stop trying to convince me I'm getting something for nothing. The cheap bastards, I can steal wi-fi from my dumb neighbor for cryin out loud.

Yes, I'm the crabby curmudgeon who thinks the powers that be are corrupt as hell, all of them, I don't care what party they're affiliated with. Oh, and the NSA really does have my phone tapped. I choose not to be happy, I choose to be a pain in the ass, acting like an ogre keeps most people away from me, which is the way I like it here at The Happy Acres Retirement Village.

Happy Acres my ass, it's filled with nothing but old busybodies who can't mind their own business and think because they wear one of them new push up bra's they're sexy again. If that isn't bad enough the majority of the men here haven't got enough backbone to tell those nosy old hags to piss off. My lease will be up in two months and then they can kiss my ass goodbye, shit I already have a nice little place lined up for less than these blood suckers are charging.

I'd made a casserole as my contribution, one of the hags made a snide comment about what she thought it might taste like since I no longer had a wife. I gave her the evil eye and told her no one was holding a gun to her head, eat something else. It wasn't fancy, but it was tasty, sliced chicken breasts over a bed of the little square hashbrowns, (I know they're called something else but I don't really care) then coated it with a bourbon glaze and a layer of shredded cheddar, bake for an hour and voila, there ya are. I think the reason the old fart bitched about mine is because she always makes a shitty green bean dish and nobody eats it.

Thinking I only had to endure this monkey cage until my casserole was all gone it startled me when the prettiest gal I'd seen in some time sat next to me. Looking around I thought, dammit, there area at least 10 chairs open, and she has to sit next to me. I wanted to be pissed and tell her to fuck off, but I couldn't get past her infectious smile. Why couldn't she be some fat old cow with half her teeth missing and smelling like urine, it would be easy to send someone like that packing.

Not this one, nooooo, she had to have the perfect makeup, hair curled and flipped slightly on the ends, bright red lipstick, hoop earrings, a pearl necklace and a lovely floral print summer dress. I didn't even need to see her tits and ass, as good as the rest of her looked I was sure they'd be almost perfect.

All I wanted to do was be left alone so I could peruse the newest submissions on Literotica in the Mature category, but no, little miss 'my God you're a knockout' had to sit down and smile. Fuck, now I have to be nice. Some days you're the windshield, some days you're the bug, I gritted my teeth and said, "Hi', my name's Stewert, how do you like me so far?"

(To the asshole who wants to write and tell me Stewert is spelled with an 'art', talk to my mother, I had nothing to do with how she spelled it on my birth certificate. If she were still alive she'd tell you to fuck off.)

She reached out to shake my hand .... son of a bitch .... she even has soft delicate hands and her smile is telling me she's here to mess up my world. I just need to figure out if it's gonna be in a good or bad way.

"Hi Stew, my name is Casandra, most people call me Casey. Are you new to the village?"

"The name is Stewert, not Stew, and I been here almost a year. My sentence will be up in two months and then I'm outa here."

"Gee Stew, I'm disappointed to hear that, I've been here six months and I think I've only seen you once before today. Not liking it here I take it?"

Is this chick deaf? I just told her my name aint Stew, geez, maybe she needs hearing aids. Or maybe she's just messed up in the head.

"Ya know Stew, you really should try some of that chicken dish with the bourbon glaze, it is absolutely delicious. Want a bite of mine?"

As pretty and as sweet as she is, this twat is beginning to get on my pip. Maybe if I'm nasty to her she'll get the hint, because my resolve to be an old prick is dissolving more quickly than normal. I aint used to being around gals who are both intelligent and pretty. I know they're out there, but they aren't bangin on my door. And I sure as hell aint used to a woman being the aggressor.

I glared at her trying to be nasty, "Yeah, I've had it, it's okay. You try the green bean dish?"

"Now that my friend .... is nothing more than fresh cow shit with dried French onions on top."

It was all I could take as I burst out laughing, I laughed so hard my stomach ached.

"So, Stew can smile after all. You really should try some of this dish, it's very good."

"I know, I made it."

With a sly grin she said, "Bullshit, you didn't make this ..... did you?" I nodded. "I'll be damned, a man who's cute and can cook as well. You come across as grumpy, but I have a feeling you're all fluff under that rough exterior."

It was my turn to be damned, I work so hard at being a grumpy pain in the ass and this pretty thing has me figured out in fifteen minutes.

"Hey, don't tell anyone, I have a reputation to maintain. If some of these people know I'm actually nice they'll never give me a moments peace. Mums the word, okay?"

I noticed the casserole dish was empty and stood to take my leave. She reached out and took my wrist pulling me back down.

"Just where do you think you're going? You're going to be my partner in Hand and Foot when these others are done stuffing their faces."

"Like hell I am, I'm outa here."

"Save the attitude Stew, I already know you're a pushover, be a proper gentleman and bring me a cup of coffee along with a slice of that apple pie. Well go, don't sit there with your mouth open catching flies."

Walking to the dessert table I'm thinking, "If you were a guy I'd drop you." But she wasn't a guy, she was a good lookin woman with what I had now come to realize was a hot little body, and she chose to sit next to me. Something aint right in River City. We're having pie and that starts with P which rhymes with T and that spells trouble with a capitol T. Maybe I should grab my dish and run, but then again, I don't want to, as much as she's peeling away the layers of hard ass, I kinda like being with her.

"Here you go Casey. What makes you think I'm going to stay and play cards? I have things to do."

"No you don't, none of us do, if you had things to do you wouldn't be sitting here putting up with a pushy broad who wants to get to know you better. You're going to be my partner playing cards, don't piss me off Stew."

My mind is screaming, run, run away very fast. Not me, I'm an idiot as I stand there grinning like a shit eatin dog. She wants to get to know me better, just what the hell is that all about? Could she be one of those hot retired women who rock your world in bed? All I've seen over the past ten months are short and rotund, or average size with tits that hang to their waist. She's the first I've seen that I would consider as hot, or that I'd want to bang.

Needless to say I'm no prize. At 66 I still have most of my hair, it's fashionably grey, and I didn't need to get the color from a bottle. I've made sure I didn't let my belly hang over my belt, I am anything but 'ripped', however my stomach is still flat, and I don't have what they refer to as a muffin waist. At least I think that's what they call it, don't really give a shit one way or the other.

I don't do the gym thing, I stay active doing simple exercises in my flat and I walk or ride the old Schwinn for twenty to thirty minutes a day. Don't need to take any pills, including the little blue ones. So far what is supposed to get hard does and stays hard until the job is done, being a firm believer in 'if you don't use it you lose it' I make sure it gets used in the shower at least once every two weeks. I may not be getting any pussy, but I'm damn sure prepared if it happens to flop onto my bed. I don't fault those who need the blue pill, I'm gonna take them if I ever need to, I just don't need to yet.

I was brought back to reality when I heard the tables being shuffled around for cards, I put my laptop away and sat across from Casey. Next to me was Sid Plante, a retired banker who seethed with bullshit, he instantly tried to be friendly, I looked at him and said softly, "Fuck off Sid." I felt a jab in my shins with the edge of a shoe and looked over at Casey.

"Behave, don't piss me off."

I ended up having fun, which pissed me off to a degree, I'd worked on my gruff exterior almost a year and she nearly destroyed it in less than three hours. I offered to walk her home which she readily accepted, as we approached my place I ask what her plans were for the evening.

"After we change clothes you're taking me for pizza and then a sundae afterward. So get your scrawny ass in the house and put on something other than that damned flannel and carpenters jeans."

That was it, I wasn't taking any more of her shit, I'm the man here, I'll take charge of things thank you very much.

"Who the hell are you to tell me what I'm gonna do? I didn't invite you to meddle. Tell me where your apartment is and I'll finish escorting you home."

"I live across the street from you dipstick, in the lower unit. Who the hell do I think I am? I'm the one who's watched your train come off the tracks since I got here. I see you go out every day, I watch you raise and lower your flag each morning and evening, I see you doing your exercises in the living room because you don't have enough brains to close the curtains. Who am I Stew? I'm the one who's going to help you get back in the game of life without being so F-ing miserable all the time. You're beginning to piss me off, now get your ass in there, change and pick me up in twenty minutes."

My mind is racing as I storm off. Fuck you bitch, you aren't going to tell me what to do, I'll take you for pizza but we sure as hell are not going for a sundae. Dammit, I hate pushy broads, I don't care how pretty she is or how much I'd like to nail her ass to my mattress, a guy has to draw the line somewhere. I had on my pissed off nasty face as I walked to the door, I had my speech all ready, I'll put her in her place, no more kissing her ass, the moment she opened it and smiled I let loose.

"Boy Casey, you look great. Which pizza place did you wanna go to? I kind of like Sammy's, is that okay with you? I gotta say Casey, you're rockin those slack's and you make that blouse look dang good."

Yeah, you really showed her didn't you, you pussy.

"I'll give you an hour to stop paying me compliments Stew. Let's go I'm hungry."

Things were not going according to plan, she wasn't supposed to be so damn pretty nor look so tantalizing in her slacks and blouse. I'm supposed to be putting her in her place, not acting like a school boy with a crush. I'll have to summon my hidden hard ass powers after all.

She talked over supper about her life. How her pissant of a husband ran off with his 26 year old secretary after being married to her over 40 years. There's was a no-fault state, she walked away with half of what they'd accrued in marriage, which was everything. After two years the 26 year old dumped him and took him for more, they hadn't actually accrued anything of great value, but she ended up with a newer car and a hefty monthly support. Casey laughed, saying it served him right, he had a hard time keeping up with her sexual needs, what on earth possessed him to think he could handle a young woman?

I commented that I hadn't seen her before, she said she'd been at the retirement home over six months. She told me she had a major surgery two weeks after her arrival and she'd been inside convalescing most of the time since then. I asked what the heck had happened.

"My appendix burst and my body was septic by the time they operated on me, I was touch and go for weeks in an intensive care ward. They had gone so far as to call my daughter and had her fly down not expecting me to live. I showed um though, this tough old bird isn't ready to kick the bucket just yet. Especially now that I've met someone as ornery as I am."

"Ornery, you aren't ornery. You're sweet and kind."

"Don't be fooled by the window dressing Stew, I'm no picnic when I get wound up. I can go toe to toe with the best of them."

We talked some about me, how I'd committed the unthinkable crime of retiring early and leaving the cold nasty weather of Norther Minnesota. As if being born and raised there prevented me from ever telling it to kiss my rosy red cheeks and move elsewhere. At the age of 63 I pulled the plug, I'd been delivering mail since I was 18, that was long enough in my book. If 45 years wasn't enough, screw um, feed um peanuts. I'd been wintering near Foley, Alabama, then going back to my cabin in June the past three years, when my son talked me into trying the retirement village. She asked why I hadn't gone back earlier in the spring, when I explained the ice didn't come off the lakes until late May she winced.

I looked at her, "Yeah, me to, now you know why I moved here permanently. When my lease is done in two months I have a nice place close to Pensacola lined up, three bedroom ranch with a carport for two vehicles. You should come shack up with me when I move."

"Why Stewert, I'm not that kind of girl." She said batting her eyelashes at me.

I wanted to say bullshit, but chose to be more diplomatic.

"Well think about it and let me know, don't decide tonight. Who knows, maybe you'll come to like me once you know me better."

I swear by the heavens above that woman looked right through me when she answered.

"I already like you Stew, if you'd stop trying to be a hard assed prick we'd likely get along just fine. Okay grumpy, take me to that new place called Culvers for a sundae. By the way, what did you do with the other six dwarfs?"

Oh ha ha ha, you sure as hell aint Snow White darlin. At the same time, I like being with her, she makes me laugh and I would definitely jump her bones if given a chance. I learned years ago you can think anything you want, but you'll live longer if you don't say everything you think.

I plastered on my pussy whipped smile and held doors for her as we left. I really didn't mind, I've been alone and angry for so long I don't know how to behave normally anymore, maybe Mary sent her from heaven to rescue me from a sad lonely existence. She ordered a one scoop raspberry with pecans, I ordered a one scoop turtle and a cup each for water.

This time the conversation revolved around my miserable existence. I'd been contentedly married for 37 years before Mary checked out. The few years before she died, she'd become depressed because our children had moved away, she'd stopped taking care of herself and in the end, she never made it through a surgery called a Thoracotomy, died on the table. At first, I was sad, then I got angry, why hadn't she cared more, why wasn't I enough to live for? Why had she let herself go, didn't she care about me? All the crap that runs through your mind when you're dealing with grief.

When I retired at 63 she'd been gone five years and I'd had four uneventful dates, three with older women, one with a gal in her late thirty's with three kids. She wanted to screw the first date and I knew where that was going to lead so I took her home after dinner. It took her two weeks of me not returning calls or texts for her to figure out I wasn't going to be her sugar daddy no matter how good the sex might be.

As I'm talking Casey is laughing at times, tears in her eyes the next moment, she finally put her hand on mine stopping me.

"You really are one screwed up guy Stew, no denying that, but you're not a lost cause either. What you need is a good woman in your life."

"Are you saying you're that good woman Casey?"

"I may be."

"So are you gonna shack up with me when I move."

She smiled and called me a chauvinistic pig. Hell, I hadn't had a compliment like that in years.

My truck has a bench seat with a console you can pull down from the center to make two separate areas. After getting in she lifted the console, slid over next too me, clipped her belt, smiled and said.

"Kind of like high school all over isn't it. Home James."

Dammit I liked this woman, no, I REALLY liked this woman. She could get me back into a happy mood if I'm not careful. I walked her to the door telling her I had a great night and enjoyed myself.

"What, no kiss Stew. Does my breath stink?"

I kissed her hard and long before pulling back. Letting out a deep breath she muttered, "Damn."

When I let go, she grabbed my arm.

"I don't know whether to be impressed or pissed Stew. You're the first guy who hasn't tried to feel me up since I was 14."

"Oh, it isn't that I wasn't tempted, I just want to get knocked on my ass for touching what aint mine."

She kissed me again, this time with a little tongue action, telling me softly, "Next time big boy. See you tomorrow."

And just like that, she was gone. Shit, shit, shit, shit ....SHIT, why the hell was this happening to me now? I'd reached a place in my life where being pissed at the world was finally the new norm, having resigned myself to the fact that no one cared about me and therefore I didn't have to care about them. I could be as miserable and lonely as I wanted ... then this happens. In my head I'm telling myself I don't want to be attached again, only to be hurt again, I don't think I can do that twice in my life.

At the same time my heart is overflowing with a desire to be with this warm, affectionate, extremely pretty and inviting woman. I love everything about her, having taken the time to scope out her body I knew I'd like it if I could ever get to it. Her legs are long and slender with just enough meat on them to squeeze your head when she cums, cute ass, not big or flat, just perfect. I could easily see myself holding her hips as I pounded her pussy, watching the little ass waves with each stroke.

Her breasts weren't big, but if they were much bigger, they'd have looked out of proportion. I did notice she wore one of the older design bras where you can still see a hint of nipple and a little jiggle instead of the new molded foam cups that hide everything. In my mind she was the complete package, had faced death and defeated it, she was now on a path toward a new life. Laying in bed I wondered if I was up to a challenge like that, could I open my heart again, could I lower my guard and show the softer side of who I really am?

When I went out to raise my flag the next morning I looked over and saw her standing in her front window, big smile, cup in one hand, waving with the other. How many mornings had she watched me in the past and I never took notice? Whatever the answer was I liked knowing she was watching me as I waved back.

When I went out for my morning walk she was waiting on the sidewalk. "You're running late today Stew, you usually start at ten sharp. Mind if I walk with you today? Doctor is telling me I need to be more active."

Mr. hardass was ready to tell her I didn't care what she did, it's a free country, instead the old Stew spoke, the one who actually cares.

"I'd like that Casey, I haven't had any company on my walks since I arrived. There is a catch though, you must agree to have lunch with me afterward."

"I like the sound of that Stew. Let's go, I'm getting chilly."