I wanted to pick them up again when this boy walked up to me and asked if he could help. I knew him, I had seen him every now and then, he lived on the seventh floor of the building. I live on the ninth. We occasionly shared the elevator. He was about eighteen or so, it was a friendly boy with half long blond hair and very blue eyes. Well friendly he was indeed, because he put my groceries neatly back into the bag and then offered to carry my other bag as well so I only had to take my shopping. "Gotta split, Pop," he said. "You take care of yourself, okay?" You too, Son. Just too bad you didn't tell me more about that 'strange stuff.' I could've kept it warm for you until your next shore leave." You'll do all right on your own, Pop. Get a piece of ass for me, huh?" Sure, kid."They embraced. Then Jack, the son, left to catch his ride back to his ship and Matt, the father, settled down in an easy chair with a fresh can of beer to think in private about what it would be like to be young. " Caressing her, illustrating her contradictions, his hands swept from top to bottom, from hair and face and neck, along arms to hands, and along the sides to her feet and up inside, across her anus and pussy and tummy until they stopped at his favorite feature, weighing the flesh, pressing into them gently, thumbing her nipples. And he would pause his words for a soft kiss throughout, sustaining the kiss while his hands thoroughly explored her breasts, the kiss heating up and becoming chaotic. The conversations were always peppered with sexual innuendo but nothing direct until a few weeks later.It was February in Milwaukee, meaning it was still winter and snow-filled here. She had been hinting that she wanted to hang out and I of course wanted to meet her in person. She however lived with her daughter and granddaughter, and her daughter was not too keen on her having guests at the house. She also expressed that she liked to party (420, drink, occasionally pills) and I was ok with.
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