Chance

Chance

He was relieved the line at the ATM was short, only a blonde in white shorts, sunglasses in hand, top as red as her lipstick, sandals. Her short hair was perfectly coifed. She had the look of money. She turned as he neared, perhaps leery of assault. Her eyes registered a mix of recognition and bewilderment and quickly looked away. He too thought she looked familiar. Was she a minor actress? A movie buff, he was miffed at being unable to attach a name to the lovely face. She looked great for her age, which he assumed was at least 60. He thought about asking if he knew her but was sure it would sound like a lame pick up line.

She turned and said: "Do I know you?" Her voice was husky, sexy.

Relief flushed through him. "I was thinking the same thing."

She smiled beautifully. Her teeth were strong if a bit yellow. His acute sense of smell detected that she was a smoker. She didn't have blue eyes.

"You're up," he said, nodding.

"Oh," she chuckled, reaching into her chic bag for reading glasses.

He smiled as, transaction complete, she pivoted and looked at him. He moved forward and did his usual "Fast $100" and quickly counted the bills. To his surprise, she was waiting, sunglasses in place, making her look much younger and even more fetching. He was tongue-tied, unable to fathom what she wanted.

"How 'bout coffee?" she said.

He shrugged. "Sure." Was she a scam artist?

"I'm Louise."

"Mike. You live around here?"

"A few blocks away."

"That must be it. I've probably seen you walking along 86th Street. You're easy to pick out."

She smiled and lowered her gaze as if she were harboring an inside joke. She linked arms with him.

Pinch me, he thought, wondering if he were dreaming. Nothing like this had ever happened to him. He loved that they were approximately the same height, five-nine. Suddenly he stopped. "BBC," he said, "the sex acronym, not the TV network."

"Bingo." She looked into his brown eyes. "Does that turn you on or off?"

"Lean toward off."

"Then why'd you watch?"

He shrugged. "I'm fascinated by the ease with which you people do what you do, seemingly without a trace of guilt."

She smirked. "Guilt about what -- consenting adults getting off? Please. This's the twenty-first century."

They resumed walking, crossing 23rd Avenue and threading their way through the throng navigating past and toward the fruit and vegetable stands and stores. A train passed on the el above them.

"Do you look at a lot of porn?"

He was visited by that slight queasiness he experienced each time he entered the site. "Couple of times a week. I don't want it to become an obsession. I am a curious Sicilian."

Now she stopped in her tracks. "That's you? What a great tag. Why didn't you answer any of my messages? I sent you so many."

He was stunned. "Really? I couldn't respond because I'm not a full member."

She deflated. "Are you a cheapskate?"

"I prefer frugal, and I'm very careful about credit card use."

"That's understandable. I've been victimized. What a pain in the ass to get things straightened out."

He stood perplexed. "Why would a woman like you troll such a site? You could have any guy you want, not to mention the risk of hooking up with a creep or psycho."

"It's fun. You must share the same sense of adventure, since you're a member too. If not for that, we wouldn't be here this minute."

He nodded acknowledgment. "Not even porn is enough?"

"I don't do that many shoots, once a month, twice if I'm lucky. I'm not in demand like the young girls. Listen. Life's short. Let's not beat around the bush -- at least not here. Wanna fuck?"

He felt as if he were in an old stag flick, before the internet made them passé with its cut right to the chase videos. All that was missing was a guitar plunk soundtrack. "I'd love to, but at this stage of my life I'm not sure what you'd get, delayed ejaculation and all. It might kill me to disappoint you. I'm seventy-one."

Even behind the big sunglasses he could see her eyes spread in surprise. Her mouth opened.

"You are not!"

"Wanna see my driver's license?"

"I thought you were younger than me."

He was delighted. "I spend a little time at the gym, always have."

"Obviously." She pinched his butt.

He blushed and lowered his head.

"What about Viagra?"

"Great for the ego, but it diminishes sensitivity, at least for me. I use an organic powder, add it to smoothies."

"Does it work?"

"Yes, but it hasn't been properly tested. I've been on the sidelines a long time." He lowered his voice, about to say something he would never have expected from himself in a million years. "I don't think I can deliver the pounding a woman like you needs, but my fingers and toes are all intact and I have a nimble tongue."

She laughed. Here they were on a busy stretch of Brooklyn, talking sex while people brushed past them. Fortunately, many did not speak English.

"I'll take the risk," she said, pulling him along. "I love guys who can talk for real, no bullshit. Are you married?"

"Sort of."

She glanced sideways. "What's that mean? Not that I give a shit. I bang married men all the time."

"Six years ago my wife qualified for Social Security and said she was moving back to Italy. She came over when she was twelve. I was sure she'd come back. At first we kept in touch but not lately. We haven't spoken in two years. I'm surprised it doesn't really bother me. We had a nice long run. We were more about respect than love. She was a good mom to our two kids."

"Where are they?"

"Vegas and Tampa."

"I'm divorced. My husband dumped me for a much younger woman. At first I was devastated. Now I see it's the best thing that ever happened to me. We never had kids. We loved running around, travelling, having fun. We were into kinky sex."

"Were you swingers?"

"No. I was actually faithful, a nice Jewish girl outside the bedroom. How stupid was that? I'm sure he played around -- I know he did. I let it slide, since he was a great provider. Now I know why he bought me all those sex toys. What about you?"

"Tempted a few times but never followed through. I don't regret it. I wouldn't have been able to look my wife in the eye. Except for my fascination with porn, which didn't really start until she left, I've been hopelessly square, no drugs or alcohol, missionary sex."

She rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Did she cheat?"

He shrugged. "I'd rather not know. She didn't work until the kids were grown, so maybe the mailman or other delivery guys got lucky. She was beautiful 'til she let herself go."

"I should've fucked them all. Were you military?"

"I was a gym teacher."

"Great pension."

He smiled self-consciously. "I'm making out like a bandit."

"Why the cropped hair?"

"I always hated going to the barber, so now it's DIY."

They turned right at Bay Parkway. Louise looked back as a handsome young man passed.

"Sorry. Ever since I started doing the shoots I slip so easily into porn mode. I wonder what good-looking guys are packing. When I watch a straight movie I imagine the characters having group sex behind the scenes."

He couldn't think of a response.

They fell silent as they reached her building and rode the elevator to the top floor, six. As soon as they entered the apartment it was as if they were of one mind, falling against the closed door and kissing passionately, Louise wrapping her right leg around Mike's butt.

When finally they broke, Mike was stunned at how beautiful the apartment was. It was immaculate. He assumed she did her smoking on the terrace.

"Wow, great place."

"Thanks," she said, dropping her bag and beginning to disrobe without qualm in front of a total stranger. "My cleaning lady is awesome."

Although her body lacked the grace of youth, it was still a sight to behold.

"What're you waiting for? Get into your birthday suit."

"Mind if I leave my T-shirt on? I don't like the way my upper body looks these days."

"Nonsense. Full disclosure. You're in better shape than a lotta young guys I fuck."

He complied.

"Golfer's tan," she noted, his pale torso and upper thighs in stark contrast to the bronze of his face, arms and lower legs. "That's what a friend's wife said about her husband."

"I do play once a week."

He was disappointed his member wasn't standing at attention and twitching, saluting her charms. He felt it was insulting. As her gaze checked his package, he went to his knees before she had a chance to be disappointed. Compared to the BBC guys, his six inches seemed woeful.

He blew into her shaved snatch. Her knees buckled. She stumbled back a half step and held onto to his head for balance, pressing his face to her. She then backed onto the couch and spread her legs wide.

"Lunch is served," she said.

He feasted.

"There's nothing like an experienced man," she said dreamily.

"I practice a lot when I'm alone."

She chuckled. He looked up, two fingers inside her, and said: "I stole that from Woody Allen."

"I love Woody -- and woodies. Suppose I come in your face?"

He paused, noted the sneer prevalent in porn just before it faded from her face, and said: "Don't be shy, let it fly."

Again she laughed, harshly this time. "You're a trip. I have a line from a movie too: 'Mind if I smoke while you're eating?' She reached for the cigarettes resting beside the fancy lamp on the table to her right.

Thumb pressed to the top of her portal as he'd seen men do in videos, he looked at her and said: "Smoke? Don't you get it -- I want you to burn."

"I love it! Back to work."

"Work? This is pure, unadulterated joy."

"Keep this up and I'm gonna blow."

"Don't flirt -- squirt."

And with that she let go a sharp blast that caught him right in the kisser. He laughed, despite the stinging in his eyes. Her juices dripped from his chin. He ran his tongue along each of her inner thighs. She lay reveling in the bliss.

"Bullseye," she said, eyes closed.

"Annie Oakley couldn't have done it better. I wish my jizz still flew like that."

"I know my pump is primed to the max these days, but that was record time for me--and you basically talked me into it."

He beamed.

When he stopped licking, she looked at him and said: "Done? Now what can I do for you?"

He stood and fondled his half-staff. "Let's see if we can get this bad boy to full throttle."

She kneeled before him and gave him a lip-lock he couldn't believe.

Three-quarters, he thought, encouraged. Soon he was up to ninety-percent and she took a full grip and yanked vigorously.

"I have a request. Please don't be insulted."

She stopped, puzzled, and looked up. "Anything."

"I know you have a million times more experience than me, but by dumb luck recently I stumbled into something that's made me very happy. I was rooting around, trying to find a hot clip. To keep stiff, I put the thumb and forefinger of my left hand just below the head, and all of a sudden I felt the old sensation building. I'd abandoned the full grip long ago. It was like it was choking off the flow. I moved up with two fingers and things improved but I was resigned to the feeling never being as intense as it used to be. I was thrilled." He looked away. "Silly, I know."

"No, it isn't. Remember who you're talking to."

She did as instructed. Noting her perfectly manicured red nails and the lipstick smudge on his member, his shaft quickly went to full tilt. He nearly swooned, his head tilting back.

"I want to paint those fabulous hooters and lick 'em clean." He couldn't believe his words.

"By all means."

The sensation was incredible. He was unable to keep himself from crying out. "Oh yeah! Oh yeah!" For once he was not miffed at delayed ejaculation, as it gave him a few seconds to get his act together. Louise lifted her natural abundant breasts.

"Do it, Michael Angelo."

He spread his semen and marveled at the stiffening of her nipples as he circled them with his newfound brush.

"A true artiste. Nice load."

He chuckled and kneeled, lapping, stroking her breasts, nibbling on them. When he had taken it all, he kissed her, sharing his seed, which she returned.

"You swallow," she said. "Too many calories for me."

He laughed so hard he almost choked. She slapped at him playfully.

"The camera adds so many pounds. I started smoking again after ten years just to curb my appetite."

He lay on his back, smiling. "I never had so much fun in my life."

"Thank you."

She rose and lit a cigarette, left the room a moment, and returned wearing a fancy, colorful robe.

"Are you just gonna lay there?"

"Better not. I might nod off. I hate that part of getting old." He sprang to his feet.

"Listen, I promised to take my mother shopping, otherwise I'd order us some food." She made a face, stuck out her tongue.

He wondered if she were trying to get rid of him. Given her frankness, she seemed like someone who realized there was no point in lying after a certain age.

"The only unfinished business for me is my mom finding out about what I've been doing. I'm surprised her gossip network hasn't discovered it yet."

"Maybe she'll be so pissed you won't have to go shopping with her anymore."

The quip caught her as she was taking a drag and her laughter induced a coughing fit that reddened her face.

"You are a character," she said, recovered.

He thought about following with a Tom Cruise line but decided against it.

"Leave me your number. We'll hang out. You're such great company."

"You know, I used up all the one-liners I've been rehearsing for so long."

She smiled. "Think of some more. You obviously have a knack for it. What d'you think about recreating what we just did and posting it on the web? I'll have a girlfriend film us with my phone."

He shook his head. "No, I'm selfishly keeping it to myself."

"We could do another, or maybe you can come to one of my shoots."

He weighed his words carefully. "Now that I like you, I don't think I could handle watching you have sex with others."

"Maybe you'll surprise yourself like I did. Some of the young girls do geezer porn. I'll see if I can set you up."

Although he often thought about sex with young woman, he could not imagine why any would want a man of his age. "You're going way too fast for me. Let me think about it."

"Like I said -- life's short. We're at the point where we can check out any time. I'm not leaving anything on the table, at least sexually, and that's about that really matters."

He sensed a pall coming over them and quickly began dressing. When he finished he looked at her, not knowing what to say. Fortunately she spoke.

"What d'you usually do to kill time?"

He winced. "I like to say fill time, although I suppose it's silly."

"No, it makes sense. So?"

"I read, watch movies and sports, do puzzles to try to keep my mind from going to pot. I even bought one of those piano keyboards you plug in. I always regretted not learning to play an instrument. You don't even have to pay for lessons. There's so much free instruction on the internet."

"Good for you."

He stared at her wistfully. "Thanks for the most memorable day of my life outside of the birth of my kids."

"You're welcome. There's more if you want."

"I may never wash my face again."

She cackled. "I love it!"

Although he doubted she would call him once she came to her senses, he said, seized by a giddiness engendered by what had gone down, imitating Humphrey Bogart: "Louise, I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship."