{Been awhile, I haven't been writing as much as normal and you will see why if you bother to read this. Back to normal now though, and not a hell of a lot of sex in this story.
Anyway, this rambles, and I get accused of that a lot. I am 68 years old, and I can ramble if I want to, so there. Besides, I write just like I talk, and I can switch subjects in the middle of a sentence, so try and keep up..:}
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About a year and a half so ago my wife Debra decided that I needed to get into better shape.
Why wives do things like that beats me, hell it can't be to keep me able to work longer.
I don't work at all.
I guess it's just because she does love me, it can't be for my money.
I don't have any of that, either.
I did have money and stuff once, but things I had planned on having in my old age just never panned out.
How did I end up here, in a smallish but comfortable home on the Oregon coast, married to a lady Doctor that is best described as just plain fun?
That's a long tale and I did relate some of that in my earlier stories, if it matters.
I am perfectly content with keeping my fishing tackle in shape and pruning my Rose bushes. The rest of the time I think of ways to spend my $901.20 I get from Social Security, Debs calls that my allowance.
My wife Debra makes a bunch of money since she is one of those Registered Nurse Practitioners.
Basically a Doctor without the piece of paper saying she is one. Her main job is to overrule the Doctor they do have on staff to keep him from killing off the patients.
Most Doctors have their noses in their charts, the nurses seem to actually look at the patient to see what is going on.
My opinion anyway.
Geriatrics is her field, which means us old folks not quite dead yet.
All Debs does is stick her finger up old guy's butts and check out their dicks all day every day.
I accuse her of that anyway.
"Hell, I could do your job, no need to go to school at all!" I teased her once way back, wiggling my index finger at her at the time.
"You want to stick your finger up old guy's butts?" She grinned at me.
"No, but how about I handle all the women clients and you handle...?" I gave her my best evil grin.
"Why, we can start our own clinic, I could go clean out the garage and....?"
That got me laughed at. We laugh and tease a lot, different type woman I got here. Never any jealousy of any kind, she knows I keep my pecker in my pants.
Of course even if I did whip it out, nothing would happen because if I can get it up, Debs is pretty close by kind of quick like.
Way back when we first hooked up I wondered about Debs. The right word for her is that she is on the naughty side, if so she might be interested in cheating with some other guy she found attractive.
Something like that would piss me off. Sure, I spread some wild Oats back when I was young but the female I lived with then was a Cat named Boots and she didn't give a shit.
But nope, while she does love it if some other male notices her, I am sure my Debs is a one man woman. Even when she is doing some whacky thing like running around a casino on our honeymoon with no panties under her skirt, it had nothing to do with anyone else.
Yep, that was to tease me!
It worked, too.
So even if some guy did get a peek at her rather ample bare bottom going up an escalator, she didn't care, not really. Debs is not bashful in the slightest.
But she knew damned good and well by then that while I will always keep it in my pants, I do like to look myself.
Get this. Having a masseuse like that July gal we know over doesn't even faze Debs. Not even when she pokes around in my behind rubbing my prostate and also takes care of the result?
No big deal there. Hell, old coots come in to her office to get checked out, Debs sends them down the hall to a little room to get a urine, plus a sperm sample so she can check for blood, bacteria, stuff like that.
That all by itself is sort of different. That was the first time I ever had any Doctor even ask me for a sample like that, although I filled my share of those little piss cups over the years.
Most Doctors I ever saw show no interest at all in even talking about sex, to Debra it's a part of life.
I guess quite a few of the customers, mostly old farts like me have figured out that if they have any troubles with that, then Debs will send in Janet, or the one named Mabel (honest to God), another new nurse on staff to get it.
I found out about Mabel from Debra of course, she and I chat over dinner and during the evening, she tells me things. Then I spotted Mabel at the clinic when I went in to get my prescriptions ordered, another thing that Debra insists on.
No refills without a consult, plus the little printout listing everything and exactly how and when to take it.
Pain in the ass, that, but I guess they had one old coot that got some suppositories, then came in and complained to Debs that those things tasted like crap.
Mabel doesn't look at all like she should be named that, she is maybe 40, glasses perched on her nose, a set of big'uns.
Mabel has never touched me, I teased Debs about needing to have things checked out by the new gal but all that got me was a fake swipe at my nose.
We both giggle about it sometimes. Debs shrugs it off, telling me that old farts like me would stay home and die if she didn't do SOMETHING to get them to come in for a checkup.
She is probably right about that, and it sure does work.
"Sexual health in older people is even more important than with younger folks!" That is my wife's party line.
I asked her just once if she ever did that herself, take one of those samples I mean. She told me she didn't. I am pretty sure that is true, because she won't even see me as a client in her office.
Ethics.
Nope, I get sent to Jennifer, one of her office partners.
Jennifer seems to delight in checking me out to see what Debs has managed to snag.
I have seen Jennifer's nipple twice now when she bends over for some reason.
Like to look at my dick.
I think she is near sighted.
That is another thing I don't ever remember happening in any Doctor's office.
Of course all that was just an accident.
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"What do I need to do that for?" I asked her when she suggested we join a gym that evening.
Debs was serving me my dinner, one of those salads with vinegar and oil she likes to whip up, tiny pink Shrimp sprinkled over the top.
Basically hay with vinegar on top. Maybe ten of those Shrimps, I think she counts them.
Of course she doesn't know about the hot dogs I had for lunch, I keep those hidden under other stuff in the deep freezer, like the frozen yogurt she buys.
I like to cook the hot dogs in my microwave until they get so hot the pop open.
Those yogurt cups have replaceable lids, neat because I can refill them with the Vanilla ice cream I like and stick them in the bottom of the freezer, Debs never notices that.
"Exercise is good for you, men lose a large percentage of their muscle mass every year, you know." She told me.
I suppose she should know, since she is a Doctor. I mean, Registered Nurse Practitioner, same thing to me.
"I am down to 206 pounds, all that is left is bones. You feed me like I am a dang Cow!" I retorted, taking a bite of the hay crop she had served me.
"I just want to keep you healthy, I want you around for as long as possible. And about 180 pounds is what you should be at!"
Well. I kind of wanted that myself, but 180? Like I was when I was a senior in high school?
Yea, sure.
"I would need new pants if I lose that much weight."
"So we can get you some new pants." Debs countered.
"Besides, I exercise. In fact, I run every morning!" I told her. Hell, I was running out of arguments.
"Yea, to the mailbox. It's 40 feet." She rolled her eyes at me.
Well. That's true.
I did groan when she told me she wanted to go down there to the gym that very same evening.
I tried my best to tell her she was getting way too skinny for my tastes but that didn't work.
"Your behind is getting so scrawny I might be getting all bruised!" I said, taking a swat at her butt, she just slid sideways and I missed.
She sure has lost some though, down to maybe 140 from her 155-160 when I met her. I think I know why, too.
Exercise. It is amazing how much regular messing around in bed improves things. With Debs, I learned all sorts of things, one of them being that if I get my fingers up inside of her and rub just right up towards her belly button, sometimes all hell breaks loose and she can..well...soak things?
I was thinking about that, then it hit me the salad I was eating really wasn't all that bad.
"It will be good for us." She insisted, sitting down to her own plate full of feed crop.
"What?" I asked.
"I said, working out will be good for us!" Debs got that mildly irritated tone of voice she gets when my thoughts wander off.
Crap. Big Brother was going to be on. Maybe this time they will get that damned Brenden guy for keeps, lying asshole. I don't know why he can't just be honest and play the game?
Then take out the redhead named Rachel, the manipulative little bitch.
I went in and set the recorder, when Debs gets an idea in her head it's easier to just go along with it because the alternative is to listen to her.
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The very first person I saw when we walked in the door was Rachel. No, not the one on Big Brother, the one that lives next door to us.
Now, I told you about Rachel in another story, she is our neighbor. It seemed she had a bit of a..uhh.."sexual" problem with her hubby and somehow I got talked into helping her with that.
You don't believe me about that, do you?
I know. Some old fart like me with my face between the legs of a twenty something young woman, both of us married to make it even worse?
With a wife not only knowing all about it but approving? I guess even her husband Nathan knew about it too but I never really mentioned anything and he never asked.
Yea, sure, like anyone on the planet would ever believe that.